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With ID Appendix Conuiniog a Few Welt-known Poemi 
in Other Language* 

Sdecled and unngcd 





. ■; 1 



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Foi the use of tbe copyrighted miterial included in this volume, pa- 
minion haa beca secnrra dther from the author or frgm his Buthonzcd 
publisbtT, and special arrangonents have also been made with the au- 
thorized publishers of the older American pMts whose works, in whole 
Di in part, have lapsed from copyiight. All rights in these poems are 
reserved by the holders of the copyright, or the aulhoriied publisheiE, 
Bs named below: 

D. Applclon & Company; The poems by WiUiam CuUea Bryant and 
Umrr Ncwbolt. 

Bane & Hopkins: "The Lav of the Yulton," by Robert W. Service, 
lrom"The Spel! of the Yukon and Other Verses," and •'€»"> On," from 
"Rhymes of a Red Cnns Man." 

The Bobba-MCTTill Company: The poems hy James Whitcomb Riley, 
fnsB the BiogiBphital Edition of his complete woriis, copyright iQij. 

Btentano'i: "The Good Inn." by Hennan Knickcibockcr Vkli!, from 
"The Inn of tbe Silver Moon." 

Edmund D. Biooki; The poems by Arthur Upsoa. 

The Century Cotnpany: The poems by Richard Watson Gilder, Rob- 
ert Uodenvood Johnson and Aubrey de Vere; S. Weir Mitchell, James 
Oppenbeiiii. and L. Frank Tookei; " Nebuchadneizah," by Irwin Rus- 
adl: "The Secret," by G. E. Woodberty; "High Tide at Gettysburg," 
by Will Heniy Thompson; " Farragut," by Wilham Tucker Meredith. 

Hcoiy T. Coates & Company: "Tbe Picket Guard," by Ethel L(ynn 
Be«s. and "Monterey" by Charles Fenno HoSman. 

W. B. Coalcnr Co.: The poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, by spedcl 
permission of the W. B, Conkey Co,, who are the exduave Americaa 
publishen of her works. 

Copclaod & Day: The poems by Alice Brown, from "The Koad to 

Dana Estes Si Company: The poems by Samuel Mintum Peck am) 
Mrs. Laura E.Richards; "July" by Susan H.Swett, 

Dodd. Mead & Company: The poems by Austin Dobson and Paul 
Laumcc Dunbar; "My Catbird," by WilGam Heniy Venable; "The 
Poster Girl." by Carolyn Wells. 

GeorEe H. Doran Company: The poams by May Byron, Amelia 
Josephine Burr and Joyce Kilmer. 

Duffield & Company: The poems by Elsa. Barker, Eugene Lee-Ham- 
ilton. r>eofge Saotayana, William Skarp, and Hden Hay Whitney. 

E. P. Dultoni Company: "Tbe Spirraol Oxford," by Winifred I^lls. 
Forbes & Company: The poems by Ben King and NUon Waterman. 
The Four Seas Company: The poems by Richard Aldington. 
Laurence J. Gomme: The poeros by Hihiire Belloc. 

The Grafton Press: The poems by John S. McGroarty. 

Harper & Btothefs: The poems by Guy Wetmore Cartyl, Charlea 
Crahun Halpiite, Don Marquis, Ada Foster Murray, and Justin Huntly 
McCarthy, the latter from lut novel, " If I were King," copyright njQi, 
by Robert Howard Ru«ell; " An Omar for Ladies," by JosephinaDaskam 
Bacoo; "Drrring Homo the Cows." by Kate Putnam Osgood. 

Heoiy Holt & Company. The jxiems by Susan N, Cleshom. Arthur 
Cotton, Walter de la More, Fr«ncis Miles Finch, Robert Frost, Charles 
Leonaitl Moore, Herbert Trench. Louis Untermeyer oikI Uargn/et 

BougliCoa.Mifflinat Company: The poems by Thomas Bailey Aldrich, 
H. H. Bashford, Abbic Farwell Btowd, John Burroughs, Ahce Gary, 
Pboebe Caiy, John Vance Cheney, Christopher Pearse Crancb, Ral^ 

4'2{)B2ii ..„,.,Google 

Copyright Notice 

WaWo Emerson. James Thomas Fields, Richard Watson Gilder, Jmwx 
Imogen Guiney, Bret Harle. John Hay, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Lucy 
Larcom, Emma. Lazarus, Henry Wadsworth LonRfellow, James Russell 
Lowell, William Vaynhn Moody,AlicB Freeman I'alnier, Thomas William 
Parsons. Josephine Preston Peabody, Nori Perry. Lizcttc Woodworth 
Reese, John Godfrey Saie, Robert HavcEi Schauffler, Paul Shivcll. Ed- 
ward Rowland Hill, Harriet Prescoll Spofford. Ernest Clarence Stcdman, 
William Wetmore Story, Harriet tjeecher Slowe, Bayard Taylor, Celia 
Thanfer, Mith M. Thomas. Maurice Thompson, Henry David Tbormn. 
John Townsend Trowbridge, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Wart!, John Green- 
leaf Whittier. 

The Howard University Print; "The Babie," by JafcmUh Eames 

8. W. Uucbsch: The poems by Irene Rutherford McLeod. 

P. J. Kenedy: The poems by Abram J, Ryan. 

Mitchell Kennerley: The poems by Arthur Davison fltke, William 
Samuel Johnson, Hany Kemp. Vacbel Undaay, Richard Middleton and 
Marjorie L. C. Pickthall. 

Alfred A. Knopf; The poems by William H, Davies. 

John Lane Company: The poems by Laurence Binyon, Rupert 
Brooke, G. K. Chesterton, T. A. Daly, John Davidson. Ernest Dowsoo, 
A. E, Housman, Laurence Hope. Benjamin R. C. Low. Alice Meynell, 
Henry Newbolt, Marjorie L. C. Ptcklhall, and Francis Thompson. 

J. B. Lippincolt Company: The poems by Georfte Henry Baker, 
Harrison S. Morris, Thomas Buchanan Read and Mary Ashley Town- 
Little. Brown & Company: The poems by Richard Burton. Suaan 
Coolidfte, Emily Dickinson, Hden Hunt Jackson. Louise Chandler 

Lothrop, Lee Si Shepan) Company: The poems by Charles Fallen 
Adams, Mary Emily Bradley, Alfred Domett, Paul Hamilton Hayne. 
William Morris, Emilie Poul»ion, Horatio Nelson Powers, David Atwood 

The Macmillan Company: The poems by Matthew Arnold. Alfred 
Austiti. Wilfrid Wilson Oibiion, Thomas Hardy, Ella HiRginson, Charles 
Kiossley, Amy Lowell, John Masefield, Harriet Monroe. John G. Net- 
hatdt, George William Russell, John Additwlon Symonds, Sara Teasdale, 
William Watson, Geor«e E. Woodberry and William Butler Yeats. 

The Manas Press: The poems by Adelaide Crapscy. 

Thomas B. Moshet: The poems by Cedly Foa-Smilh. Lucy Lyttlelon 
and Edith M. Thomas. 

L. C. Page & Company: The poems by Bliss Cannan and Chnries G. 
D. Roberts. 

G. P. Putnam's Sons: The poems by William Henry Orammond and 
Norman Gale; "The Rosary," by Robert Cameron Rogers. 

Norman Remington Company: The poems by Patrick R. Chalmers, 
from "Green Days and Blue Days." 

Charles Scribner's Sons: The poems by Josephine Dasfcam Bacon, 
H. C. Bunner, George W. Cable. Maty Mapes Dodge. Eugene Kil-Ii). 
John Galsworthy, Josiah Gilbert Holland, Sidney Lanier, George Mer- 
edith, A. T, Quiller-Couch. Corinne Roosevelt Robinson. George Sama- 
yana. Alan Seeger, Robert Louis Stevenson, Charles Warren Stoddard. 
Benjamin F, T.iylor and Henry Van Dyke. 

Sheiman. French & Company: "The Lonely Road," by Kenneth 
Rand; "Sunday Evening in the Common," by John Hall Wheclock. 

Small, Maynard Sr Company: The poems by Charlotte Perkins Stetson 
Oilman, Richard Hovey, CImlon Scollard, John B. Tabb and Walt 

Stewart & Kidd Cn.: The pmfm by Wm. Oaynes I.ylle. 

F. A. Stokes Comruny: The poems by G«>rt1 Burgess, Alfred Noyes, 
and Swnu<'1 Uinturn Peck. 

Whitaker & Ray-Wiggin Company: The poems by Joaquin Miller, 


Copyright Notice 

Etpress personal permissTon has be*n i«eived by tbe edilor from the 
blkifiiae Butbom for the use of such of their poenu as appear in IMS' 
collection, all rights to which are rewrved by them: 

Heniy Abbey, Zo£ Akins, John Albee. Elizabeth Aken Allen, Bemy 
Milk Alden. Mimjaret Steele Anderson, Evenird Jack AppletOD. 

Josephine Daskam Bacon, Karle Wilson Baker, John Kendiick Bugs, 
Kendall BuininK, Elsa Barker, H. H, Banhfoid, Herbert Bashford, Ario 

■• ir..i — :-.i^D.<^ ""-'- "-"oc (by Joyce Kilmer), Wiiliain 

in Bennett, CbaricsG.BIanden, 
d^et Bowen. WilKua Stinky 
Mary Bolle* Branch, Albert 
, Alice Brown. WilUuB Lnrd 
Banner), Gelett Buigesi, Daoa 
1 Burton, Samuel U. M. Byet^ 

E. Carcyl, WilU Sibert Cither. 

Arthur Chapman, John Vance 

;. CUrke, VirRinia Woodward 

Cloud.' HorencG Rarle Coatcs, Zitelh Cocke, Robeil CoUyer. Heko Gray 

Cone, Once Hazard Conhlme, Ellen Madcay Hutchinson Cortteoi. 

T. A. Daly, Mary Carolyn Uavii-s, William H. Davies. Mai^aict De- 
land, Charles M. Dickinson. Austin Dobson, Digby Hacfcworth Oolben 
(by Uerald Dolben Paul), Julia C. R. Dorr, Wafler G. I>oly, Arthur 
Conan Doyle. 

Etaine Ooodale Eastman, Florence WITkinion Evans. 
Arthur Davison Ficke (by C. A. Fide), Sara Teasdale FilsiDgcT. A. 
HuEh Fiaber, Mahbn Leonard Fisher, Sam Waher Fon. 

Hamlin Garland. Theodosia Garrison, EUlen M. Huntington Galea, 
Helena de Kay Ciikler (for Richard Watson Gilder). Joseph B. Gilder, 
Strickland W. Gillilan, Charlotte Pericins Oilman. J. Scott Glaseow, 
Charles Buiton <ioing, Dora Read Goodale, Homer Greene, Sanh P. 
McLean Greene, William Griffilh. 

Hermann Bagedorn. Ruth Cuthrie HardinR, Virginia Bioren Harriton, 
Jemne A. Hart, Hilde«arde Hawthorne, Fiedendl Henry Hedge, 
Theresa Helbum, Barbara Henderson, Oliver Herford, Ella Hicginion, 
Katherine Tynan Hinkson, William Dean Howelli, Helen Huntington. 

|ohTi3, Robert Underwood Johnson, WiUiam 
. JflDcti, Thomas S. Jones, Jr. 
n, James B. Ken>-on. Joyce Kilmer, Harriet 
m Goddard King. Rudyard KIpUng (fur 
1 (for Frederic Lawrence Knowles), George 

itned, Loun V. Le Doux, Richard Le Gal- 
Isay, Grace Denio Litchfield, Robert Lovtt 
man. Benjamin R. C. Low, Amy Lowell. 

John S. McGroarly, Isabel E. Mack ay, Frederick Manning. Edwin 
Harkham. Josephine Peabody Marks, Don Marqui.H, Edward Sandford 
Martin. Caroline Atwaler Mason, Alice Meynell, Lloyd Mifflin, Edna 
St. Vincent Millay, Emily Huntington Miller, Harriet Monroe, David 
Morton, Ada Foster Murray, Kenton Foster Murray. 

John G. Neihinll, Henry Newbolt, Grace Fallow Norton, Alfred 

Oliver Opdyke, James Oppenhdm, Shaemas O Sheel. 

Albert Bigelow Paine, Alice Freeman Falniet (by G. H. Palmer), 
Randall Parrisb, Harry Thurston Peck. Samuel Mintum Peck, William 
Alexander Percy, Frederick Peterson, Sarah M. B. Piatt, Emilie Poulsson, 
Harriet Waters Preston, Edna Dean Proctor. 

Kenneth Rand. Lizelte Woodworth Reese. Cale Young Rice, WalUce 
Ri«, Laura E. Richards, James Whitcomb Rilty (by E. H. Eitel), Harri- 
son Robertson, Corinne Roosevelt Robinson, Edwin Ariington Robinson, 
Robert Cameion Rogers, John Jerome Rooney, George WiUiam RumeU. 


Copyright Notice 

Mirgiret E. Sangf (er, Joseph Sargent (for the poemi by Coy Wclmore 
Canyl), Robert Haven Schauffler, Edmund H. Scars, Paul Shivdl, 
David Banks Sickel^, iJamct Pitscott SpoHotd, Victor Slarbuck, Wii- 
liani Force Stead. Laura Sledman (for Edmuiul Clarence Sledman). 
GeorKe Sterling, Mildred McNeal Sweeney. 

Joseph RusmU Taylor, William Ko9<:dc Thayer, Edilh M. Thomas, 
Rose Hariwiii Thorpe, L. Frank Tooker, Ridgcly Torrence, Charles 
Hanson Towne, Am£lic Rives Troubetzkoy, John Townsend Trowbridge. 

Louis Unlermeycr. 

Henry Van Dyke. William Henry Venable. 

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, Lydia Aveiy Coonley Ward, William 
Hiyre Ward. Ni.on Waterman, Carolyn Wells, Kobcrl Gilbert Welsh, 
Carl Werner, Edward J. Wheder, John Hall Whcelock, Margaret Wid< 
dcmer. KlU Wheeler Wilcon, Krands Howard Williams. William Winter, 
Georiie E<tward Woudberry, William Hervey Woods, WiUaid Hunting- 
ton WHcht. 

Ruth Comfort Milchdl Voung. 

The compiler is indebted to the editors of the following magazines for 

<e the poems mentioned: 
:r "AlFer Seek ' " ' 

The Atlantic; "AlFer Seelen." Mabel Earle; "Binbright," John 
Drinkwater: "Emilia," Ellen Angus French (Sarah N. CIcghorn); '■The 
Valley of Vain Verses," Henry Van Dykei "To Daises," FcandsThomp- 

The Bellman; "Immortalis." David Morton. 

The Catholic Standard and Times; The poems by T. A. Daly. 

The Century: "The Year's End," Timothy Cole; " Kinchinjunga," 
Cale Vounir Kice; "Nested," Habberton Lulham; "To Her— Unspoken," 
Amelia Josephine Burr; "A Lover's Envy," Henry Van Dyke; "Her 
Pathway," Cornelia Kane Rathbone: ' Love is a Terrible TUng," Grace 
Fallow Norton; "Chavei." Mildred McNeal Sweeney. 

Contemporary Verse: "Tropical Town," Solomon de la Selva; "A 
Liulc Page's Song," William Alenander Percy. 

Harper's Mafiazine: "I Shall not Cry Return," Ellen M. H. Gatesi 
"Wise," Lizette Woodworth Reese; "Wild Wishes," Ethel M. Hewitt. 

House and Garden: "Gales and Doors." Joyce Kilmer. 

Life: " Finnigin to Flannigan," S. W. GiUUin. 

The Outlook: "A Poet Enlists," Amelia Josephine Burr. 

Poetry: "Sunrise on R)n]Bl Water," John Drinkwater; "Night for 
Adventures." Victor Starbudi; "An InnDoralily," Ezra Pound; "A Very 
Old Song," William Laird Brown. 

Reody's Mirror: "Nora," Zoe Akina. 

Scribner's Magazine: "Comradea." George Edward Woodberiy; 
"Constancy," Minor Watson; "Turn of the Road," Alice Rollelt Coe; 
"Where Love Is," Amelia Josephine Burr; "Airael," Robert Gilbert 






D,g,t,7P:hy Google 


The attempt it made in this coUectian to bring together 
the best short poems in the English language fcom the time 
ofSpensei to the piCsent day, together nith a body <A vene 
irtiich, U not great poetry, has at least tbe distinction of 
wide populaiity. In vbat degiae this attempt has been 
mcccBsful the book itself must show; but it may be worth 
while to state brie^ certain purposes which the compiler 
had in mind when he undertook the ta^, and which he has 
carried out as faithf^y as he could. 

These purposes were to include nothing which did not 
seem to him to ring true, but,.at the same time, to recognize 
the validity of popular taste as well as of classical taste; to 
preserve in authentic ierm certain fugitive poems which 
everyone axhntres but mihich few kjiow vtheie to ^od; to 
lay emphasis upon the lighter forms of verse; and to pay 
especial attention to the work of livioC £nglish and Ameri- 
can poets, particularly of the youJOger generation. 

It would be idle (o suppose that everything included here 
will appeal to everyone as good poetry. Tastes in poetry 
dificr even more inwilabiy than tastes in food; but the 
compiler has tried to spread his taUe in such a manner 
that every healthy taste may be abundantly satisfied 
without having to cat of any dish it does not care for. In 
one respect, he is free to ctmfesa that, in arranging the 
banquet, he has not relied upon his own taste alone. There 
is a Doto of pensive sentinient — the note which LongEellow 
knew how to strike so successfully — which, according to 
Professor Trent, "finds an echo in the universal human 
heart," and this note the compiler did not feel justified in 
disregarding, or evea regarding lightly, umply because his 
own heart happeos to be indifferent to it. Nor has he beoi 
deterred liom using a poem because it was the common 

p:hy Google 

xii Introduction 

property of anthologists, or tempted to include any be* 
cause it was little known. For this is a collection, not of 
curious or unusual, but of favorite verse. 

There will be much difference of opinion as to the merit 
of the selections from the work of living writers included 
here. Where the test of time is not available, and the 
stamp of wide approval b withheld, there remains only the 
test of individual preference, and here the compiler has 
tonsolted no judgment but his own. lie has been haiiq)tred 
by human limitations as applied to a mass of material so 
overwhelming in bulk; but he hopes that the selection will 
be found fairly representative, and that no really great 
poetn of recent years has been overlooked. And while the 
restrictions of copyright have somewhat limited the Kp- 
Tesentation given certain American poets, he believes that 
American verse, as a whole, receives far more attention 
here than in any other general anthology. 


Practically the first decision the compiler made with 
regard to this work was that it should be a collection, not 
of fragments, but of complete poems; and this, while it did 
not, of course, prednde the use of poems within poems — 
of lyrics from the dr&matists, of songs from Scott's met- 
rical romances, or of such parentheses as Byron's stanzas 
on Waterioo — while it did not prevent the excision of 
such obvious digressions as the final stanzas of Timrod's 
"Spring," and while it was not construed to mean that a 
sequence such as "Sonnets from the Portuguese" must be 
given entire, has, nevertheless, resulted in some dqmva- 
tions. No passages will be found here from any of Shake- 
speare's plays, no stanzas from the " Fairy Queen," no Unes 
from "Paradise Lost." But the compiler feels that such 
loss, if it be a loss, is more than counterbalanced by the 
satisfaction of knowing that, throughout the book, one gets 
complete the poet's thought, as he embodied it in his verse. 

The decision to give every poem entire has resulted in a 
few exclusions from another cause than that of length; for 
(n some lyrics, especially of Restoration days, there b oc- 


casioiiaBy' a line Of stanza' tod ir^ for mtidArt^'taste. ttis 
for this reason that . Suckling's inimitable "Ballad of a 
Wedding" ■wUI riot be found between these coveirsi since it 
contaiDs one ^tatiza c^talrdy, and perhaps threti br foUt', 
not fitted for a "Home Book of Verefe." A few other poetns 
which had got throue^ tiit wirinowihg as ^ as the fir^t 
proofs, wer« finally cut out for the fiame reiisoh, rather thab 
presented in a mangled or Bowdlerized version. 

And, as already mentioned, the enforcement of copyri^ 
restrictions has prevented the use of a sihaH number of 
poems which the compiler wished to include. There are a 
few publishers who seem to tbgard -^th pibtiounced dis- 
favor any a^ection such ak thi$,'knd 'n^ wiH'petmit Ae 
use of poems which'they control ciUier not at all, or onl^ 
upon conditions which are, in effect, prohibitive, Becausb 
of thb, the admirers Of Henry Cuyler Bunntr will Idok in 
vain throug}! these pages for any exam[:fc of his delicate 
art; and for the same reason a few other American poets 
are either ab^t altOgethM or only ineagerly represented. 
But the losses from this cause are uriimportant when dun- 
pared with the great body of the work, and the comj^ler 
feels that he has little reason to complain. For the most 
part, his requests for copyright permissions have been 
granted with a most gratifying courtesy and generosFty'. 


Great care has beeu taken to seture accuracy of text, & 
task whose difficulty only the anthologist can appreciate. 
In so far as possible, the copy used was taken f'ttim die 
standard editions of the various' poets; and where there 
was any question of authenticity, as in the case'of fugitive 
poems, the poem, if the author Was Uving and could bi 
found, was submitted to him for correction. In the older 
poems, where there were varied readings of equal authority, 
the editor has used that which seemed to him the best ; and 
where there have been repeated revisions of a poem, that 
has been chosen which seemed the better version: 11113 hab 
not been, in every case, the final version; for, ai in the case 
of Coates Kinney's "Rain on the Roof," dver-Tcflnement 

p:hy Google 

:xiy Introduction 

has sometiioes destroyed the spontandtjr of the e^licr 

The spelling has been modernized throughout, as tlieire 
seemed no reason to preserve aa archaism not intended by 
the poeti and such eccentricities of spelling as vaxious 
writers affected have been made to conform to the ac- 
cepted American usage. The numbering of st^mzas has 
been omitted, as unnecessary and cumbersome. la every 
case where a short poem has been taken from a longer one, 
a line has been added to indicate its source, and where the 
author himself did not supply a title for his poem, the 
pr^nt editor has usually preferred to quote the first line 
as the title, rather than use a title invented by someone 
eJse. In the old ballads, a modem version has been used 
in prefffence to the earliest one, which would be unintelligi- 
ble to qiany readers; and the use of the apostrophe to in- 
dicate Ml imaginary shortening of a syllable has been done 
away with. As a matter of fact, there is, for exaqiple, co 
real difference between the pronunciation of "kiss'd,""kist" 
,and "kissed," and so no reason why the regular spelling 
should not be used. 


T^ classification used in this volume has been made t9 
fit the poems, and not the poems the classification. lit 
other words, with the exception of some of the children's 
verse, the work of selection was completed before that of 
classification was begun. The compiler can claim for it no 
fundamental originalily, since meet poetry falls into certain 
well-recognized classes; but he has tried to make it more 
searching and exhaustive than is usually altcmpted. He. 
has tried, (or instance, to group the poems dealing with the 
emotions not only by meaning, but by shades of meaning, 
-SO that one poem would seem naturally to suggest the next. 
This has, of course, been ^ task too fine for accomplish- 
luent .with anything like complete success; but, as he has 
Jopked through the final proofs, he has been conscious of at 
least a few happy juxtapositions. 

Classification is a nerve-racking task, and, even at the 
best, mu^t ^metimes be pui;ely arbitrary; as, for exan^ple. 


Introduction xr 

vhere the preseat conipiler liaa F^aced hn setecdon ham 
Merettth's "Modem Love" andcr "Love Sonnets." For 
Meredith's staazas an mt aamiets &t all, since they con- 
iist of sixteen lines each; asd yet they have essenti^ly a 
sonnet effect, and tl»ir place Eeemed to be with the other 
iamoiis sequences. Then, too, there are many poems which 
may equally well be placed under vftiioas headings, so that it 
was, more <x^ less, an acfaitidry dectsioil which placed "The 
Coartin' " under "The Coiiie<^ at Love^' rather than with 
the bamorotB poems, and "KathIeen'Ma,voumeen" under 
"The Parted Lovers" raiher thm "At Her Witodow." 

And, however complete the classificatioo may be, the 
anthologUt must inevitably, at the end, find himself with a 
number of poems on his hands which belong disthictly ' 
nowhere, and which must yet go somewhere. It lias been 
rather the fashion to solve the difGculty by putting them 
anywhere; but the present compiler has chosen, rather than 
break the continuity of arrangement, to set up, in one 
section of Part VI, a sort of scrap-bag in which these odds 
and ends are assembled. 

Where every collection such as this must fail of complete 
success, as representing the whole field of English poetry, is 
(hat it exalts the writers of brief lyrics at the expense of the 
writers of long odes and epics and narrative poems. Such 
poets as Milton, Pope and ro lling do not loom as large in 
these pages as their stature merits; to attempt to represent 
Shakespeare by a few of his songs and sonnets, or Swift by 
in e^gram, is manifestly absurd; so that this collection 
can claim to be adequate only as a representation of Enf^ish 
lyric poetry. That, it is hoped, it will be found to be — 
nmething more than that, indeed, since many of the more 
famous longer poems are also included; and it should be 
valuable, too, as bringing together in one index a wide 
nnge of verse not to be found in the average private library. 

In dosing this resumi of a task which has occupied some 
three years in the doing, the compiler wishes to acknowl- 
edge his deep ind^tedness for many kindnesses to the Uving 
niters whose voA. is represented here. They have been 

p:hy Google 

xvi . Introduction ' 

viaSonafy belpful and oUiging; not bnly bave tiuiy cordial^ 
assented to this use of their poems, but they have nadr 
suggestions, bave revised oopy and have read proofs. Thar 
sympathy and' interest have been never-faiiing, and it ivas 
very largely their entbiuiasm and Cnconragement: which 
enabled the compiler to cany throu^ to completion a, task 
before vhich he faltered more than once. To them and to 
their predecessors in the Sejd of English song belong irhat- 
ever honor and glory it may bring; for, to parapbinac ' 
Montaigne, the compiler has contributed to this Doaegay ' 
nothing but the thrsid which binds it; theirs is its pafume 
and its beauty. 

B. E. S. 
CntLUcotHE, Obio, 
May lo, i9«* 



When thefiist edition of this book was published In 191s, 
there was a tentative agreement between publisher and com- 
piler that, il it was still alive at the end of ten years, it shoald 
be revised in an effort to ke^ It abreast of the times, and so 
for every decade thereafter. On neither side was there any 
r«I expectation that the agreement would ever need to be 
carried out; certainly there was no reason to suppose that 
sudi a reviaon would be possible, or in any way necessary, 
at the end of five years; and yet this third edition represents 
a far more cmnpletc revision than was then cbntemplated 
—the addition of five hundred and ninety poems, and the 
deletion of one hundred and sixty-nine; entire lepn^&tjon, 
and innumerable minor changes. 

It is, of COTiree, primarily because the book has been com- 
mercially successful that the publisher is able to spend still 
more upon it, but that alone would not have waminted a 
revision such as Uiis. What really warranted it — almost 
compelled it—was the astonishing renaissance in Englbh 
and American poetry which the present century has wit- 
nessed. "The Home Book of Verse" was launched, by a 
fortunate chance, just when this renaissance was gathering 
volume, and its success was due brgely, no doubt, to the 
new interest in poetry thus evoked. But this also had the 
effect of putting the book more quickly out of date, and any- 
00c in touch with modem verse could not but be disap- 
pomted to look through a volume such as this and find 
nothing by sudi poets as LascMles Abercrombie, and John 
MaseiSeld, and G. K. Chesterton, and Walter de la Mare, 
and Robert FVost, and Vachel Lindsay, and Richard Middle- 
ton, and Ralph Hodgson, and Rupert Brooke. 

It is from the work of this younger choir that the additions 

have v«y lajgety been made, and among them wlU be found 

Hme lyrics as fresh and kively as any in the volume — and 

» true to the great traditions of English poetry. The dele- 



xviii Introduction to the Third Edition 

tions are partly of verses whose inclusion was originally 
detenni'ned — as the compiler now realizes — by quoUbilily 
rather than by merit, and partly of those which failed to 
stand the test of repeated re-reading— the deadliest test 
there is. The revision is based upon a careful examinatioo 
of every significant bool( of poetry published in this counliy 
since 1QI3, andof many published in England, as well as of a 
number of older books to which ihe compiler bad not pre- 
viously had access. 

He has also had the assistance of the many columns of 
critical comment evoked by the appearance of the original 
edition, and he is not ashamed to say that bb attention was 
caJIed in this way to many notable poems with whkh he, 
was entirely unfamiliar. Second in value only to the 
printed criticism was the great mass of correspondence 
which came and is still coming from all over the country—^ 
delightful letters which prove how widespread and genuine 
is the love of poetry. 

The one general crilicism^as against ^iedfic complaints 
of certain omissions — which seemed best founded was that 
no adequate representation was given to the great odes of 
English poetry. The compiler's first thought had been that 
they were too long to be included in a book which is cssen- ■' 
tially a collection of lyrics; but reflection convinced him that 
these odes did have a place here, and some six or seven of 
than have been added. 

The well-grounded specific criticisms were too numerous 
to be enumerated; but a particularly striking one was Utat, ' 
while the "Rub4iy3t," the great skeptical poem of the nine- 
teenth century, was given entire, there was nothing, or 
practically nothing, from the century's great poem of faith, 
"In Memoriam." A careful selection from "InMgmoriam" 
will be found in this edition, preceded by two sections from 
another great poem, which also in a way _cou[itcrs the 
"Rub&iy4t," though from a vastly different angle — Sir 
Richard Burton's "Kasidah." 

Then, too, the prestige which the book had gained made it 
possible to secure permission to use certain poems which were 
denied to an unknown adventure. Lovers of I^ C. Bunner 
win £ad nine of his poems here, and a mimber of other 


Introd<ictifln .to ihe. Third Edition xix 

poets aie lepreaeoted more adequately than was posahla 
five years ago. When the compiler says that he believea 
Ihis third edition to be a far finer achievement than was 
the &ist <»)£, he vill be pankuied, since the ment is so largely 
that of otbef5. 

Not least that of other anthologists. Every general 
collection such as this must have its foundations in other 
collections, from the very first ones which preserved the 
"Reliques" and "Pastorals," to the very latest which pre- 
serve* the magazine verse of the year. The debt varies, of 
course, but it is nevertheless a debt which the compiler has 
often felt should have beea acknowledged In his original 
btiodiictiffn, and which is most heartily acknowledged here. 

The general plan of the book has remained unchanged, 
acept in one or two very minor details. The compiler 
found that, in spite of his best efforts, a few incomplete 
poems had crept into the first edition. These have either 
been completed or labelled as extracts; and two or three 
other incomplete ones have been added — notably Suckling's 
"Ballad Upon a Wedding," minus five stanzas. It simply 
had to come in! Several questions of uncertain authorship 
have been solved. There is no longer any doubt in the com- 
piler's mind as to who wrote "Hochi der Kaiser," and 
"There is no Death," and "Little Drops of Water," and "At 
a Cowboy Dance." And a number of disputed readings 
have been setlled^to his satisfaction, at least. For example, 
after examining forty-three editions of the "New England 
Primer," he has found the weight o[ authority to lie on the 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep, 
rather than 

"I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep." 
He has taken a real joy, by discovering a misplaced comma, 
ia changing the mediocre line, 

"Her hand se«ned milk, in milk it was so white," 
to the far more striking 

"Her hand seemed milk in milk, it was so white." 


XX introduction to the Third Edidoil 

He has corrected all the typognphical errors he tad himaetf 
discovered or Which had beoi pointed out by many oor- 
respondents; he has labored to make the biographical dat« 
as complete as possible; he has checked up the poems in tM 
book with such definitive or revised or collected editloas 
as have appeared since 1911; and he feeb that the ttxt may 
be relied upon as accurate and authoritative. 

Finally, he must again express his deep scAse of obNgation 
to those living poets, both English and American, who have 
been so unstinted in appreciation, and so generous in per- 
mitting the use of their work. Without their help, this new 
edition would nave been impossiUe. 

B. E. S. 
Chilucothe, Ohio, 

December 1, 1917. 

p:hy Google 


Seasons JolmKeals 

..^New-Born Baby Girl Grace BaiariiConUmg 

To Uttk Ren*o WBiam AspataaU Bradlej. . 

A Rhyme of One FrtdtrUk Lochtr-Lampion . . . 

To a New-Born Child Cetmo MoniJieuse 

«■ Baby Hay WiUUin Cox BmtuU 

Alice BtrbertBisUerd 

Songs for Fnsolelta Rkhard LeGailiaan 

CboosJDg a Name iSary Lamb 

Weighing ihe Baby ElMd Lynn Bars 

Etude Rialiste Algttntit Ckaiia Swmbtmt. . 

Little Feet EiaabtlkAkai 

Tbe Babie Jtremtah Eamts Sattkin 

Little Hands Laurena Binyim 

Banbotomcw f/armatGab 

Tbe Storm-Child Jtay Byron 

"On Patent Knea" WmtmJma 

"Philip, My King" Din^ Maria Mtdack CraH. . 

Tbe King of tbe Cradle Jeitpk AshbySterry 

^BsThe Fintborn Jeln Arlknr GaodcUid 

No Baby JD tbe HoDse data DeUiva 

— ^Oar Wee White Rose Gtrald Masiey . . 

Into tbe Worid and Out Sarak il. P. PiaU 

"Baby Sleepa" Sanmd Hindi 

Baby Bell Thomas BaiUy Aidrick 


Mother Goose's Mdodin UHkiuvm 

Jack and Jill Unhurum 

The Queen of Hearts Vnbmiii 

little Bo- Peep Untiunm 

b Mary's Lamb f/iiJbwtDit 

Tbe Star Jant Tayltr 

"Sing a Song of Siipeoce" Unkyunint 

SmpleadMn Unkmnai. 

The Breakfast Song Emilie PouhtM 

"I Had a Uttle Huiband" Unkmnim 

'When I Was a B«^k>r" U»k»mm 

TobDuy Shall HaveaKew Bonnet". I/ninoMfli 

tie Oty Mouse and llw Garden 

Mouse \. .Ckrittiita Ratstlli 

'kal:^ Radbreast Uttlmnm 



Table of Contents 

Si^nion Grundy Urihii>m 

"Meny Are the Bells" Vnhiomi 

"When Good King Arthur Ruled Thia 

iand" UMimmH 

^1 Had a Litde DogO " (/BfawHW 

"A Farmer Went Trotting" Vnimmn 

^;>Tbe Owl and the Eel and th« Warm. 

^^ing Pan" Laura E. ftidaads 

•TTieCoi",. AtinTayht 

-'The Lamb WWiaiK Biatt 

— »LitUc Raindrops : , . . , .UnknfWH 

,^^"Moon, So Round and Yellow". . . .Uaukiai Bart 

The House That Jack Btult UnMiunm 

CHd Mother Hubbard UtikaawH 

l^The Death and Burial ot Ci>ck Rotrio. . Uitknmm 

Baby -Land GcBrre Cm/per 

The First Tooth ^ WiUuim Biighly Rands 

Baby's Break(B«t' Emilu Poulssm 

—The Moon EUta Lti PeOfn 

Baby at Play ..Unkiunm 

The DiSerence Laura E. Rickarit 

Foot SoUifts Jnlin Banisler Tabb 

Tom Thumb's Al{^abet UninMai 

Grammar in Rhyme UHtnown 

— • Days of ihe Month Uninmm 

i^ T%e Garden Year Sara Coleridge 

Riddles Unknavm 

Ptoverhs. VBknoan 

■"" Weather Wisdom Unlmwin 

Old Superstitions Untnmm 


Wynfccn, BIynken. and Nod Eutetie Field 

The Sugar- Plum Tree Eugeiu Field ; 

When the Sleepy Man Comes Charles G. D. Roberts 

Auld Daddy Darkness James Pergmoii 

Willie Winkie WiSiaM Uillrr 

The Sandman Margaret Tkamimi Jamiir.. , 

The Dustman Frederick EdwviWealkerly.. 

Soihestia's Lullaby R(^>ert Greene 

"Gddm Slumben Kiss Your Eyes". rAnmiu Det^xr 

"Sleep, Baby, Sleep" Cearpi Wilhir 

Mother's SMg Uskunn 

A Lullaby Hidiard Raaiattds 

A Cradle Hymn ItaatWalU 

Cradle Song WiRiam Blake 

Lullaby Candina Naamt 

LuUaby o( an Infant Chief Waller Scull 

Good-Night JmuTayler 

"Lullaby, O Lullaby" William Cox Beiuiea. 

Lullaby Alfred Tennyson 

TheCottager to Her Infant DorBlkyWariranirth 

Trot, Trotl Mary P. Satis 

Holy Innocents Christina Ceorgimi RoitetlL. , 

Lullaby Jtsiah Gilbert BoUand 

Cradle Song Jtsiah Gilbert HaUand 

An Irish Lullaby Alfred Prrceeal Grates 

Cradle Song JastpUruFtam Peatoiy... 

Mother-Song from "Prince l,\idlet" .Al/rtd Austin , 

Kentucky Babe Riihard Henry Buth 

Minnie and Winnie Alfred Tennyson 


Table of Contents 

vfbe Butterfly and the Bee WiBiam Lisle Baaits. 

i The Butterfly Addaidt O'Ketfe 

MoniiiiK Jaiu Taylor 

Biittercaps and Daisies Mary Bamlt. 

wilte Ant and the Cricket t/nbunm. . . 

After Wings Sarah M. B. Piall. 

Deeds of KindnesL Epcs Sargent . . 

tTiK Lion and the Mouse J^reyi Taylvr. 

^c Boy and the Wolf /oAm Boakham Fr 

'Ttie Story of Augustus. Who Would 

Not Have Any Soup Reinridi Bowman 

TheSloryof Li[t1eSudc-A-Thumb. . . Heinriili Bi^inati 
Written m a Little Udy's Litlte Al- 
bum Fredtritk WUSiam Faber. 

My Udy Wind Vnhunm 

To a Child WiUiam Wordiworlh . . . 

' A Faiewell Ciarki KingiUy 



Table of Contents 

ScdomoD Gnindy Unhunm 

"Meny Are the Bdb" Unhum "' 

"When Good King Arthur Ruled This ■ "^ 

Laod" Unbunm .« *« 

V"! Had a Little Doggy" Untnnm ,™' v ■ - J^ 

"A Farmer Went Trotting" Unlmowit ioh.ui.. . . jb 

,^he Owl and the Ed end the Wann- 

-^e Cow. , 
-'Thel ■ 

..EdiihNtsbU. . 

— Vifi'^ '™™'iio^ ■ ■ ■ BdtB Bamm Bastarick '■ 

'-'•'*^"°? While Lily Cw« MaedonM ,. ^ i, 

(^TheUeiMness or Nature,. . f^^. .WUIiamCulkn BryoK.. 

gsby^LM^ , W. Graham Roberliim . . 

The First, * WiUiaM Btake 

Baby s Hr», child's Question Samitd Taylor CeltTidfe. . 

"f™ Moon.<mi«,.i.^^0j,„n 5„o„ Caoddge . __ 

!^'"'.iS-r°"^^**™^-' FkoOeCary 143 

The,lS«:ltet 9 Story . .Emma BuBlinftm NasiM 145 

5««e Sinpng-Lesson j-cuk Jtuf/iaB 147 

'Chanticleer Kaiktrnulyirmit 149 

_ ' "What Does Little Birdie Say?",... -4ifre<(rotByjiwi.>.. iso 

--^ Nurse'! Song Wmiam Btakc. J ici 

— T;a clt Frost , Gabrid Stlom . . '. ,". , iji 

-- "October's Parly .Cenrge Caoptr is*- 

The Shepherd Wmiam Blaki 153 

Nikollna Crfio Thaxler isa 

Lillle (iuslava Cclia Thaxter 154 

Prince Tatters Laura E. Rkharit. .•; iss 

The yttle Black Boy tViiliam Blake. .Vf-:'. 156 

The Blind Boy CnUey Ciiber . . ,^:?.'.'t 157 

The Witch in the Glass Sarah M. P. Piatt. .-. .-.x .... 157 

My Shadow .Robert Lauii ^fcwMm.- is8 

The Land of Counterpane Kubert Leais 5fnBt^i ,-'!..., 158 

The Land ot Story-Boolia Roberi Louis SiiVetiVbk .'f. .. . isg 

The Gardener Sebrrt Limit Sletfnslir.'y'. ... 160 

Foreign Landi Robert Louis SteuensoK. ife 

My Bed is a Boat Robert Leuis Stnenstm 161 

The Peddler's Caravan William Brigkiy Ratub 161 

Mr. CoMS Edward Verrall Ltuas i&i 

■The Building of the Nest Margaret Sanisler i6j 

"There was a Jolly Miller" Isaae Bicteril^ 163 

One and One Mary if apes Dodge 164 

A Nursery Song tawo B. Richards i6s 

A Mortifying Mistake Anna Maria Prall 166 

The Raggedy Man James Wkilcomb Riley 166 

The Man In the Moon James Whilcomb RUey 168 

Little Oiphant Annie JamesWkilcanA RUey 169 

Our Hired Girl Jama Whilcomb Riley 171 

Seein' Things Eugene Field 17J 

The Duel Eugern Field 173 

Holy Thursday William Blakt iT4 

A Sloiy for a Child Bayard Taylor 175 

The Spider and the Fly Mary Hmrill 17* 

The Captain's DflURhter J arnes Thomas Fieldi 178 

-J The Nightingale and the Glow-Worm,H'tUiaiHC»wJer 179 

Sir Urk and King Sun: A Parable.. George UacdotuiU iSo 

The Courtship, Merry Marriage, and 
Picnic Dinner of Cock Robin and 

Jenny Wreo Unhunm 18) 

p-hy Google 

Table of Contents 

' Fro"*'' "^ 


"Cod Rest Yo^ J^trOentlCnren . _ 

"OLitUe Town ol Bethlehem" Phillips Breais . 

A Christmas Hymn Alfred DimeU 

"While Shepherds Watched Iheir 

Flocks by NiKhl" NalniHTale 

ChrisUnas Carols Edmund Hamiilm Sears. . . . 

TIk AniEcb William Drummmd 

The BumiM Babe Rabrrl Soulhuill 

Tryste Noff. Louise Imocen Cuiaey 

Chrislmas Carol. Untnoim 

" BriKhlcst and Best ol the Sons of 

Ihc Morning" ftisinaSd llebrr 

Christmas Belb Ilenry Waiswcrli LrniRfellea . 

A Christmas Carol Gilbert Kcilk CktslerlBn 

The House of Christmas , Cahtrt Keilh ChfMrloii 

The Feast of the Snow Gilbert Keith Ckeiltrtm 

Mary's Baby Shatmai OSked 

Gates and Doors Joyce KHmer 

The Three Kings Ilenry WadsiBOrlt iMiifelltic. 

Lullaby in BetUehem Henry Hnwarlh Baskfnd . 

-^Child's Song of Christmas Marjorie L. C. PichlhaU 

Jest 'Pore Christmas Bueenf Fidd . 

A Visit from St. Nicholas ClemetU Clark Uoerc 

iCetemoDiea for Christmas Robert Btrrick 

On the MoraiiigofClirist'a Nativity.. yute Mi/ton 



The Faiiy Boot NermaitGaU 

Faliy Sones Wmam Shakespeare. 

^leen Mtui , Ben Jonsan 

vVtK Elf and the Dormouse Oliver Btrfard 

"Oh! Wheie Do Fairies Hide Their 

Heads?" Thomas Raynes Bayly. 

Fairy Song Leigh Himl 

Dream SoDg Richard Uiddlelm 156 . 

Fafry Song John Keals .... 

?ueenMab Thomas Bood . . 
be Fairies of the CaldoD-Low Mary 

TheFairies , , _ 

The Fairy Thrall Mary C.G. Byron. . 

FsreireU to the Fairies Richard Corbel.. 

The Fairy Folk Roberl Bird 

The Fairy Boolt Atbie PamM Brincn 146 

The Visitor. Patrick R. Chalmers 

The Little F.lf John Kendriek Bancs 

The Satyrs and the Moon Herherl S.Gorman 


The Children Charles Monroe Dickinsen. .. 

The Children's How Henry Wadsworlh Longfeltmi. 

Laus Tnfantium. . .- William Canton 

The Desire KalAerine Tynan 


Table of" Contents 

A Child's Laugbtet Axemen Charla Smittunt.. as4 

Seven Years Old Algtmon Ckarlts Sviiibarae. . 153 

Creep Afore Yc Cmg .James Ballaatiae 156 

Caslies in the Air Jamts Ballanline jjj 

Under My Window Thomas Wtslwood 158 

Little Bell Thamai Weuvwid jjg 

The Barefoot Boy JaJia Graidcaf WkUtier 161 

The Heritage Jama Rutsell LmctU i6j 

Lclly's Globe Charlts TtHnyion Turner. . . . i6s 

Dove's Nest Jesefh RusseU Taylor ibb 

The Oracle Arlkiir DacUoH Ficte s66 

To a Little Girl Hden Parry Edm 367 

To a Little CM Custm Ki>bbi 267 

A Parenul Ode to My Sou Thomas Bood 168 

A New Poet WUtiam Cattlon 160 

To Laura W— , Two Years Old Sathaniti Parktr WUlis J70 

To Rose Sara Teasdatt 171 

To Charlotte Pultency Ambrose Philips , ." J73 

The Kcture ol Little T, C. in s Pros- 
pert of Flowers Andrra Ufarwtt, J73 

To Hartley Coleridj!c WUliam fVordstoerlh 375 

To a Child of Quality Mt^Acic Prior 576 

Ex Ore InCaDtium Ffanca ThompiOH 177 

Obiluaiy Thomas William Parsons, . . . 278 

The Child's Heritage JotmG.Ntihardt 17^ 

A Girt of Pompeii Edward Saadford Marlia .... i3o 

On Ihe Pirturc of & "Child Tired of 

Play"'. Nathaniel Parker WUlis iSo 

The Revene of Poor Susan William Wardsmorlh iSi 

Children's Song Ford Madox Buefer, . .' iSi 

The Milhcrless Bairn William Thorn aSi 

The Cry of the Children Elitaielh BatreU Brmenins. . . i8j 

The Shadow-Child Earrifl Monroe 288 

Mother Wept Joseph Siiptey 289 

Duty Ralph W aide Emerson ago 

LuCT Gray William Wordsworth ago 

In the Chjjdren's Hospital Alfred Tennyson.. .: J91 

"If I Were Dead" Cotentry Palmore apfi 

The Toys Coventry Palmore ag6 

A Song of Twilight Unhmam 207 

Little Boy Blue Eugene Field ag8 

The Discoverer Edmund Clarenie SIciman. . . igS 

A Chiymlis Mary Emily Bradley 300 

Mater Dolorosa William Barnes 301 

The Litltc Ghosl Kalherine Tynan 301 

Motherhood Josephine Dosham Bacon 303 

The Mother's Prayer Dera Sifersoit Shorter 304 

T)a Leetb Boy Thomat Auguslin Daly 306 

OntbeMoer Cole Young Rice 307 

Epitaph of Dionyeia Uiihnnm 307 

ForCliariie's Sake John WiUiamson Palmn. ... 308 

"Are the Children at Home?" Uargarel Sangslrr 311 

The Morning- Cilory Maria While Lowell s" 

She Came and Went James RusseU Lowell 3r4 

_Thc Fhsl Snow-fall Jama Russeli Lowell 315 

"We Are Seven" , WiUiam Wordnoorlh 316 

My Child John Pierpont 318 

The Child's Wish Granted George Parsons Lalhrop jao 

Challenge. Kenlan Foster Murray 3 Jo 

Tired Mothers May Riley Smtlh 3J1 

Siy Daughter Louiw Homer Greene 321 

"I Am Lonely" George Eliot 313 


•Table of Consents 


Miiiknbaod Henry WadsaorUl LoHg/tUw. 317 

To Ibe ViTKins, to Make Much of 

Time Raierl Berrick 348 

To Mistress Munret Hussty Jcka Skctlea jag 

On Her Coming To LondOD Edmund Walta jjo 

"O, S«w Ye Bonny I,«lqt" Robtrt Btirmt 331 

^4o B Young Lady WiUiam Camftr 333 

Ruth Tlumas Boai 33J 

TheSolitiiy Reaper Wiiliam Waritvarik 333 

The Tliree Coltue Glrli WiBiam Wcrdittarlh 134 

Blarkmwore Mafdans Willuim Bona 336 

A Portrait ElisabiUli Bamtl Brnnvit. . . 338 

Ton Child at Fancy Lewis Harris 340 

Dai^ Francis Thompson 341 

To PetnmiUa, Who Has Put Up Her 

Hair Jlmry Bawarik Baskford 343 

UteGipcyGM Baay Aljori 344 

Fanny Atme Scene AUrick 344 

SoRidrady's Child Limise Ckaadler MmUm MS 

EmiHa Sarah t/. Cltikom 346 

To a Greek Girt Aiulin Dtbsm 347 

"Cbainber Scene" Nalkmirl Parker Willis 348 

"Ab. Be Not Fahe" Richard Watson Gilder m9 

A Life-Leason James Whitcainb SiUy 349 


Tbe Breaklna Martorel Sletle Andersm. ... 351 

Tbe Flight of Voutli Richard Henry Sloddard 3SI 

"Daysof My Youth" Si. Ceoree Turter 351 

Ave AtiTue Vale Rosamund Manielt Walson.. 333 

To Youth WaUtr Satagt Lmdiir 354 

Stanau Written on the Kood Be- 
tween Florence and i'isa Gearte Gordim Byrtrt. ... 354 

Stanzu for Masic Geerite Gardm Byron 355 

"When Ai a Lad" IsaM Ecckiltme Uackay 356 

"Around tbe CUM". Watler Sarage Landor 356 

Aladdin Jasnes Russell Lowell 357 

Tbe Quest Ellen Mackey Bulehinson 

Corlitsot 357 

My Birth-Day Thomas Mom 338 

Sotinet on His having Arrfvcd to the 

Age of Twenty-Ttiiee. Jehu UilUm 3ji) 

On ThH Day I Complete My Thirty- 

Sixtli Year , Georgt Gordon Byron 360 

Growing GiW Austin Dobsen 361 

Tbe One White Bitir Waller Satatt Landor 361 

Ballade of Middh-Age Andrew Lohk 363 

Middle Age Radiipk Chambers Lthmann.. 363 

To Critics Wallet Learned 366 

Tbe Rainbow William Wardnnorih 366 

LmveiakiDK WiUitm Wabmt 366 

Equiooctial Addine D. T. WhUnty 3*7 

"Before the Beginning of Yearn" Altemon Charles S-j'inbume, . 368 

Mao Henry Vaugkan 3*Q 

TbtPlliky George Btrbal 3Jo 

p.:hy Google 

Table of Contents 

Ode an Ihe Inliimtions of Immorlal- 
ity frorn RecolJectiau of EaHy 
ChiWhcBd .WiUiam WoninMrrt 371 


WoDtaa EMeK Sliuaiari Barrea J77 

Woman From Ihi Sanskrit 0/ Caiidaia, 377 

Simplei Muoditiis BinJaaian 377 

Delight in Disorder Bsbtrt Berrick 3jS 

A Praise of His Lady /,.*■ HfJuxHld 378 

On a Certain Lady at Court Aleianda Pope 3B0 

Perfect Woman Wmiam Wardiworik 3S0 

Tlie Soiitary-Hearted ffarlley Ce/eridgt? 381 

Of Those Who WiJIt Alone RUkvd Burton 383 

"She Walks in Beauty" GiDrge Gordon Byrm jtj 

Prelude* ftron "The Angel in Itie 

House" CoKHlry Patmtre 38^ 

A Health Bdaard Coaie Pinkney 387 

Our Sister Horatio NtlioK Pmnat ...... 3S9 

FromUfc Brian Booktr 390 

Tlie Rose of the Woiid Wiiliam BuUit Veati 390 

Dawn of Womanhood. Harold if mra. j»i 

The Shejiiierdeas Alict UtyntB 393 

A Portrait Brian Htokrr 3*3 

The Wife Tkeodosia Garriion 394 

"Trusty, Dusky, Vivid, True" Robert Louis A/nmtwi 3M 

The Shrine Digby Machearlk Dolbm, , . . 355 

The Voice Norman Gale 355 

Mother Theresa Heibum 3«6 

Ad Matrem Julian Fane 396 

C. L. M Jokn Masefield 397 


Steppng Westward WUiiam Wordsvmrtk 358 

A Farewcl] to Arms George Peelt 399 

The World Frands Bacan 399 

"When That I Was and a Little Tiny 

Boy " Wiiliam Shakespeare 40a 

Of the Last Ver»s in the Book Edmund Waller 401 

A Lament . Ckidimk Titkkornt 401 

To-morrow John CMina 401 

Late Wisdom George Craibc 403 

Youth and Ase. Samiel Taylor Coleridge 403 

The Old Man's Comforts Robert Somkey 405 

To Age WiMcr Savage Laudtr 406 

Late Leaves Waiter Saaotn Landor . 406 

Years Walltr Savaf« Lander 407 

The River of Life Tkotnai Camfidl 407 

"LongTimeaChild" Hartley Coleridge 408 

The World 1 am Passing Through . . . Lydia Maria Child 408 

Terminus Ralph Waldo Emerson 41a 

Rabbi Ben Eira Robert Browning 411 

Human Life Aubrey Themas de Vere. .... 416 

Young and Old .Charles Kingsley. 417 

The Isle of the Long Ago Benjamin FranMin Taylor. . . 417 

Growing Old Mallkra Arnold 418 

Past Jokn Galsaortky 410 

Twilight A. Mary F. Robinson 410 

Youth and Age George Arnold 4*1 


, Table of Contents 

Forty Yeurs On Sdaiard EmesI Boukh 411 

Dregi Erneit Dawson 4" 

The Paisdoi of Ttaw Austin Dahsm 413 

AfK WStiam Winler 414 

Onnia Somnia Raiamiad Marrioa Walton. . 414 

The Year'* End TinMky Cole 415 

An Old Man's Song Sicliard U GaUitnne 4IS 

Sopss of Seven. Jtan Intttoa 4>& 

The Retreat flmrj Vaufhan 434 

A Supencription Danle Gabrwl Rossetti 4.15 

The Child in the Garden Henry Van Dykt 43S 

Cutles in the Air Thomas Lett Ftacork 43; 

Sometimes Tkemas S.Jencs.Jr 436 

The Little Ghosts Tkomas S.Jonti.Jr 436 

My Other Me Crate Denio LUckfitU 436 

A Shadow Boat Aria BaUs 437 

A Lad That k Gone .' Soberl Louis Slertnsm . . ._... 438 

Catcasaonne Jekn R. Thompson 438 

Childhood John Banisif Tabb 440 

The Wastrel Riginald Wri[il Kaufman.. . 440 

TroiaFuit RefmaU Wiighl KauSman.. . 441 

Temple Garlands A. Mary F, Robinson 441 

Tinte Lone PaM Percy Bysshe SluUey 44' 

"I Remember. I Remember" Thomas Hood 443 

My Lost Youth Henry Wadswrlk Lengfeilou. 444 

'•Voice of the Western Wind" Edmund Clarence Sledman .. . 446 

"Langsyne, When Life Waa Bonnie". /tJuonJrr Andersen 447 

The Shoogy-Sboo Winlhrop Fackard 447 

Ballon VMa Tayior 448 

The Road of Remembrance Licetle Wooduorlh Rase 44g 

The Triompb of Forgotten Things... £:<fj(jljf. Thomas 449 

In theTvili^ht James Russeli Laueli 450 

An Immorality , . , .Eva Found 451 

Three Seasons Christina Giorgma RosselU. . . 452 

The (Hd Familial Facet Charla Lamb 453 

The Ugfat of Other Dayi Thomas Moort 4S4 

"Teats, Idle Tears" Alfred Tennyson 454 

The Pet Name Bimbelh BarreU Browniai.. . 4SS 

Threescore and Ten Ritkard Henry Sloddard 457 

Bain on tbe Roof .Coales Kinney 458 

te by the Hearth George Arnold 46a 

..._ Old Man Dreams driver Wendell Holmes 461 

_'he Garret William Makepeoa Ttuikeray 463 

Auld Lang Syne Robert Burm 464 

Roci Me to Sleep Bisabelk Akers 46S 

Tbe Bucket Samuel Woodivorlh 466 

The Grape- Vina Swing WUIiam Gilmore Simms 467 

The Old Swimmia'-Hole James Wkileomb Riley 468 

Forty Vests Ago .Francis Hmlon 46g 

Ben Bolt Thomas Dvnn Entfisk. 470 

"BteaJt, Break, Break" Alfred Tennyson 474 



Table of Contents 


Ems fttfp* Waldo Emtrmi. ^74 


"Now What is Love" WaUet RaUitk tlS 

Wooing Song, "i-ovc ia the biouom 

where tbere IjIows" Giles FUftktr 476 

Rosalind's Miidrigal, *'Lo^T in my 

bosom" rAoBioj Ledst 477 

Song, "Love is a sickness full of 

woes" Samud Danitl 47S 

Love's Perjuries Wiilittm Slaktspeare 470 

Venus' Runaway Ben Jmim 47g 

What is Love Jt»n FUlektr 481 

Love's Emblems Jekii Flclcher 481 

The Power of Love Joht FteUktr ■ 48J 

Advice to a Lover Unknoam jgj 

Love's Horoscope. : Ricliatd Crashaio 484 

"Ah, bow Sweet it is lo Ixive" Jeim Dryien 48s 

Song, "Love slill has aimclhingof the 

sea" Ckarlei Sedley. 486 

The Vine James Thomsm 4851 

Song, "Fain would I change tliat 

note" VnkHovn 487 

Cupid Stung Thamas Uaart 488 

Curnd Drowned.,. Leigh Himl 48S 

Song, "Oh! say liot woman's heart is 

bought" r*MWM /.ow FrOfBi t 4Sg 

"InlhcDaysotOM" Thomas Lttr Prnmk 48g 

Song, '■Howdeiieiou9isthewinning"r*™iajC'aiiipfc« 400 

■ Stanias, "Could love for cicr " Grorfie Gordon Bjton 4q[ 

"They Speali o' Wiles" William Thorn 40J 

"Love will Find Out (Tic Wny" I'nknoiiii 404 

A Woman's Shortdiming^ FJisaMh Barrell BroimiHg. . 405 

"LovehuthaLanjni.-ige". . . llflm Sdina Skrrldan 40(1 

Song, "O. let the solid ground" Alfred Teiuyson. 407 

Amaturus William JokHson-Cory 407 

The Surface and the Dcpllis Lmiis Murtis 400 

A Ballad of I>reaml,ind AIk">ioh Charles Sidnhunu . 40Q 

Endymion Henry H'admarlh Lonsfellolo 500 

Fate Susan Marr Spaldint 501 

"Give bH to Love" Rj/A* Waldo EmsrsaH 501 

"O, Love is not a Summer Mood".. Wr*oKlH'o/soiiGiW(r S04 

"When will Loi'eCoinc" Paktitkam Beally 504 

"Awake, My Heart" kotfri Bridges sos 

The Secret Graree Kdv'arJ Woodbtrry.. . 505 

The Rose of Slars George Edvard Woodifrry.. . 506 ' 

Sons of Ems from ".^ffathon" Gfome Edtford Woadbttry... 507 

Love is Strong Richard Burlon S07 

" Loveoncewaslike an April Dawn". Ro*rr( i'tUfrwaoi Jeknsan. . 508 

—The Garden of Shadow Ernnl Do-jsor, 508 

TTie Call Reginald Wrigkl Kaifffman. . 500 

The Highway Louise Driiioll 509 

Song, "Take it, love" ..Richard UGollieme 510 

"Never Give all the Heart" William BulUr Veals 511 

Song. "I tame to (he door of the house 

of love" Alfred Nayes ... 5" 


Table of Contenta 

"Child, ChOd" S«fd Teasd^ Sii 

Wisdum Ford Madet llurgrr s 1 1 

Epauguc f Tom "EaAAeaaai Love" . .LajcdU$ Aherceombit sij. 

Ob Hampslsul Heath W itfrid Wilsm Gibivn i>6 

Once on a Time Kendall Banning S17 

FiRt Hong from "Astrophd and 

Sella" Philip Sidney 51B 

Silvia WiUiam Skakespnan jig 

Cupid andCampaspo Jahn Lyly jio 

Apollo's Song from "MidaK" JbIhi Lyly SJO 

"Fair is my Love far April't in her 

Face" Snbal Crane Sio 

Samcla Robert Crttnt 511 

Dametus' Song of His Uiapheniu. . . .Htnry CoastiMe jit 

MaHrigal. "My Love In her attire 

doth show Mt wit" Unhaan 579 

Chlorisin the Snow Unkrumm SJj 

"There is a Lady Sweet and KiTUl"..(/Hibi0i«i Sij 

Chcny-Ripe Tkonas Canaan 514 

Arnanllb, Thomas Campion 514 

Elizabeth of Bohemia'. Henry Wtllm JJS 

Her Triumph BtK JoHstn 526 

Of Phlllis Wmiam Drummond s'J 

A Wdcome WiUiam Brmme s^T 

The Complete Lover WUUam Braame siS 

Rubies and Pearls Robert Utrrick Sjg 

Upon J utta's Clothes Robert Herriik jj9 

'To Cyntlua on Concealment of her 

Beauty FnoKts Kyiiaslim jig 

Sontt, "Ask Die no more where Jove 

botows" Thomas Careir jjo 

A Devout Lover Tkonai Ranielpk jji 

On a GLidle FJmund WaiUr 5 ji 

Castara WUUam HiMnilan S3i 

To AmaiKntba that She would Dis- 

hevd berRair Richard Lvcdaa Sj3 

ChloeDiviM Thomas D'Urjey Sjj 

My Peggy Atian Samiay. Sj4 

Song, O mdditr than the cherry . .John Cay 5jS 

"Tell me. my Heart, if this be Love" .Giergi LylOelon S.IS 

The Fair Thief CkoHes Wyndham 536 

Amoret Uaik AhetuUi Sj7 

Song, "The shape alone let others 

priie" Uark Akenside. S37 

Kate of Abradecn John Cunnintkam 538 

Sane, "Who has nibbed the ocean 

cave" Johm Shav jjd 

CUoe Robert Bums 540 

"0 Mally's Meek, Mslly's Sweel ". . . Robert Bums S4i 

The Lover's Cboica Thomas BedinsfieU 541 

Rondeau RedoubK John Payne S41 

"My Love She's but ■ Lamia yet"... yjiMitfow. . S4j 

J«E^, the Flower o' Dunblane RabrrI Tannahiil J44 

Margaret and Datm Thomas Campbrll 144 

r^wonet's Canzonet EnittlRhys 545 

SUnios for Music, "There be none of 

Beauty's dau^rters", George CarJan Byron 14A 

"Flowers I would Bring" Aubrey Tkamai de Ven 546 

"It JB DOt Beauty 1 Draiand" George Darley 547 

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Table of Contents 

view" tlarltey CileriJt' 548 

Song, "A violet in her lovely htit" . .Charki Sitain 548 

Eileen Aroon Gerald Griffin 549 

Annie Laurie I/hiIhoibii 550 

To Helen Ediar AUan Pee 551 

"A Voice by the Cedar Tree" Alfred TennyioH ssi 

Song, "Nay, but you, who do Dot love 

her" Roterl Bmrnting 553 

Tbe Henchman Join, Gretn'ea/ WkillUr SSJ 

Lovely Mary Donnelly William AlUmliam jm 

Love in the Valley Cteige tferedUM 156 

Marian Ceargt Meredith s6j 

Praise oF My Lady IVilUam Morris 562 

Madonna Mia Algemm CkarUs Suinbume. 56s 

"Meet wc no Angels, PanMe" Thamas Aihe sbj 

To Daphne Waller Beianl s68 

"Giriof IbeRedMoulh" UarHn MacDermoa. iiS 

The Daughter of McndoM Mirabeav Bmtparli Lamar. i6g 

"U ShtbemideolWhiteiLrvl Red".. Iferberl F.Honu sTo 

The Lover's Song Edwird Raitiand Sill 571 

"When Firstl Saw Her" George Edv>ari Wtadbtriy. . . 571 

My April Udy Uenry Van Dyke sji 

The Milkmaid Austin Dak'i» srj 

Song, "This peach is pink with such a 

pink" Norman Gale 574 

In February Henry Simpion S74 

"Love. I Marvd What Vou Are". . . . Trumladl Slicknry S7S 

Ballade o[ My Lady'a Beauty Joyce KUmer 575 

Ursula. R^erl Underwood JakHMH. . 576 

Villanclleof His Lady's Treasures, , .EmtsI Dowiok 576 

Swig, "l^ve, by thai loosened hair".B(ijjCiu-Btoii 477 

Song, "O, like a queen's her happy 

tread" WHIiam Watson J77 

Any I«ver, Any Lass Rickard Uiddlelan 578 

Songs Ascending Wilier Byiuur IJ9 

Song, "'Oh! Love,' (hey said, 'is King 

o[ Kings'" Raperl Broi^e 580 

Song, "How do I love you" Inne Rulkrrford UeLead. . . s8o 

To ... . In Church .AlanSeefcr s8i 

After Two Years Rickard Aldinglon 581 

Praise Seumas O'SuUinm s8» 


"Forget not Yet" TkomasWyall 583 

Fawnia Robert Greene s&S 

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love .Cirtiio^W Uaritm 584 

The Nymph's Reply to the Passionate 

Shepheid WaHtr Raieigk jBj 

"Wrong not, Sweet Empress of My 

Heart" '. Waller Ralfitk s86 

To His Coy Love Uidael Draylon 586 

Her Sacred Bower Thomas Campion 387 

To Lesbia Tkamat Campion 588 

•■ Love me or Not " Tkomas Campion 580 

"There is None, O None but You " . . Thomas Campion 589 

Of Corinna's Singing Tkomas Camion sgo 

*'WeremyHeartassomeMen'sare".r*amaiCaiii^™ 300 

"Rind are her Answers". Tkomas Campieit soi 

ToCdia BeHJonsmt JQI 


Table of Contents xxxiii 

ScmE, "O, do not wanton with those 

eyes" Bm fansan J5i 

Sans, "Go and catch a falling slat". .Joka Doant 591 

Tbe Message John Doani 593 

Song, "Ladies, though to your con- 

qMring eyes" Gtargt Ethocie 594 

To a Lady Asking Him how Long He 

would Love Her. Cew|c Elhcrexe 594 

To-tnone Robrrl BarUk S05 

To Anthea. wbo may Command him 

Anything Robert 11 ttrkk 595 

Tbe Bracelcl: To Julia Saberl Ilerriii 596 

To the Western Wind Ftbot Heirkk 596 

To my Inconirtant Mistress riomoi Carcnr 597 

Peisuaaiuns to Enjoy Tkfmas Carea 597 

Mpiiocrity in Love Rejected TKomas Carea jgS 

The Message Tkemas Heyaeod SoS 

"How Can Ihc Heart torRct Ilcr" Francis Davison 599 

ToRo^esintheBosomotCaslara William Hainnffon 600 

To Flavia Edmund Waller 600 

"Lo%-enot Me (ot Comely Grace ". . . .Utiltmrjvt 601 

"When. Dearest. I but Thlnfc of 

Thee" Jalm Suctliae 601 

A Doubt of Martyrdom Join SiKlding 6oi 

ToChloe William Cartarichl 603 

"I'll Never Love Thee More".. James GrnAmn, .■. 604 

To Ahhca. Iron Prison Richard Levdace 605 

Why I Love Her Alexamler Bromc 606 

To his Coy Mistress Andrea tfartell 607 

A Depo^tioQ from Beauty .Tkamas Stanley 608 

"Love in Ihy Youth, Fair Maid".. . .C/ataoim 6og 

To CeDa Charles CoUm 609 

ToCdui Ckaries Stdlty 6(0 

A Song, "My dear mistress has a 

hiarl Jthn Wilmot 610 

Love and Life .Jokn Wilmet 611 

Constancy JbIm Wilmol 611 

Song, "Too late, alas, J must con- 
las" JoknWibnut 611 

Song. "Come, Celia, let's agree at 

last" /o*B Shield 6ij 

Tie Enchantment Thomas Otaay 613 

Sonjt, "Only tell her that I love" John Cutis fiij 

"False though She be" William Conereve 613 

To Sihia Anni Finch 614 

"Why. Lovely Chatraer" Vnknewn 614 

Against Indifference Charles Webbe 615 

A Song to Amorcl Henry Vaa(han 61$ 

Tbe Lass of Richmond Hill Jama Upton 616 

Song, "Let my voice ring out and 

over the earth" James Thomson 616 

Gifts James Thomson 617 

Amynu Gilterl Elliot 617 

"O Nancy! wilt Tbougo with Mc"...r*omajPo-cy 618 

Cavalier's Song Robert C-HnntHghame^lSraham 6ro 

"My Heart ia a Lute" ., ,-J Anne Barnard 6jo 

Soni;, "Had I a heart for falsehood 

framed" Richard Brinsiry Sheridan . . 610 

Meeting George Crabbe 6« 

"0 Were my £»ve yon Lilac Fair". . , Robert Bums 61 i 

"Bonnie Wee Thing" Robert Bums 6ii 

Itow^hncr Waller SaTage Landtr 612 


Table of Contents 


]g Charms" Tkomas Moort 614 

The Nun Ltigh Runt , 614 

Only of Thee and Me Louis Unlcrmeyer 6:5 

To Percy Bysske Skdlry fiij 

From the Arabic Percy Bysshe SktlUy 6afl 

The Wandering Knight's Sone John Gibsm Lotkkarl 0j6 

Song, "Love's on the highroail " Dana Burnett S17 

The Secret Love A. E 617 

The Flower of Beauty Grorge Barley 6i8 

My Share of the World Alia Furlong 6ig 

Song, "A lake and 3, (airy boat". . ..Thanuu Hood 6jo 

"Smile and Never Heed Me" Ckarlei Swain 6jo 

Are They not all Ministering Spirits. .Roberl Slcphm Boater 631 

Maiden Eyes. Gerald Griffin 6ji 

Hallowed Places Alice Freeman Palmer 631 

The Lady's "Yes" Eliiahelk Barrtll Brnvnint . . 6ji 

Song, "It is the miller's daughter ".../IVrfrfrmnyiOB 633 

Lilian Alfred Tennyson 634 

BugleSong, from "The Princess" Alfred Tennyson fijj 

Ronsard to His Mistress William Makepeace Thack- 
eray 63s 

"When You are Old" WiBiam BulUr Veals 6jfl 

Song, "You'll love me yet, and I can 

larry" , Soberl Bromiing 637 

Love in a Lite Robert Brmcnint 637 

Life in a Love Roberl Broaning 638 

The Welcome Thomas Osborni Davis 638 

Urania Mallicni Arnold 6n) 

Three Shadows Danle Gabrid Rosielli 640 

Since we Parted Ed-iMri Roberl Bulwer Lytloii 641 

A Match Algertwn Charles Smnburnt. 641 

A Ballad of Life Algernon Charles S'leinburne . 641 

A Leave-Taking Algernon Charles Smnbume . 64s 

A Lyric Algernon Charles Swiabume . 646 

Maureen John Toihunler 647 

A Love Symphony Arthur O'Shaughntssy 647 

Loveon the Mountain Thomas Boyd 648 

Kate Temple's Song Mortimer Collins 640 

My Queen fMinm'B 641) 

"Darting, Tell me Yes" John Godfrey Saxe 650 

"DoIIxweThce" John Coifrey Saxe ■ tsi 

"O World, be Nobler" Laurtna Binyan 651 

"In the Dark, in the Dew" Mary Nnemarck Prescoll . . . 6s« 

Nanny Francis Davis 6sj 

Al^ifle Henry Timrod 654 

Romance Robert Louis Sleeenson 654 

"Or Ever the Knightly Years were 

Gone" WHliam Ernest Henley fijj 

RusinUrbc Clement Scoll 6s6 

My Road diver Opdyke 657 

A White Rose John Boyle O'Reilly 657 

"Some Day o( Days" Nora Perry 658 

The Telephone Roberl FrosI 658 

Where Love is Amelia J osethint Burr 6sfl 

That Day You Came Liielle Woodworik lUese 660 

Amantium Irs Emetl Doason 660 

In a Rose Garden John Bennett 661 

"God Bless Vou, Dear, To-day" John Benntlt 661 

To-day Benjamin R. C. Lira 66j 

To Arcady Charles Button Going 66^ 

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Table of Contents 

Wild Wisba SAd H. BrwUl 664 

"Beciiue of You" So^Aut JJnxin BenJty 665 

Thea Rose Tory Coakt 666 

The Missive Edmund Gosie 666 

Plymouth Uariwr Mrs. EnusI Rad/ard 667 

Tin Serf's Secret Wiaiam Vautln Uoody 667 

"O, Ineipresaible as Sweet". Gtmgt Edaaid Waedbarj... 66S 

TbeCydamcD Aria Balet 66S 

T%e W'est-Couatw Lovet Alice Brmm 660 

"Be Ye in Love wilh April-Tide" CliiHea SaMard 670 

Vnity Alfred Neya 670 

The Queen WUIiam WiiHer 671 

A Lover's Envy Henry Van Dyte 6jj 

SUi Song Robert Uadtrwoed JolmsBn. . 671 

" My Heart Shall be Tby Guden "...AtUe UeyneU 67J 

At Night Alice Ueyudl 674 

Saofi. "SorKissoold" Ilermeim Hageiarn 674 

"AD Last Night" LasceOei AbercnnMe 674 

The Ijst Word Prideric LaureKCt Knmalei. . 67s 

"Heart of my Heart" Uiikiutm 676 

My Laddie Am^ie Riva 676 

The Shaded Pool NarmanGiiU 677 

Good-«right 5. Weir UUckdl 679 

The Jlystic Wilier Bynner 680 

"I Am the Wind" Z<m> Akins 680 

"t Love my Lite, But not Too Well" . Hurrirt Mmroc 681 

"This ii my Love lor You" Grace Failmi Nerlm 6B1 


Lips and Eyes Tkonuu MidiUlait 681 

ThcKiK BenJonson 683 

"Take, O Take Those Lips Away "../oibif/((e*ff 683 

A Strfeo Kiss George WUker 68j 

Soog, "My Love bound me with a 

kits" Unknmut 684 

ToElectra Robert Eerrich 6S4 

"Cone, Chkie, and Give Me Sweet 

Kincs" duties Hanbury IVilliatm . . 68$ 

A Riddle WiUiam Cmeper 08s 

To a Kias John Wolail 686 

Song. "Often I have heard it said ".. If u/ier Sowge Z^ndor 686 

The First Kis o( Love George Gariaii Byrm 686 

"Jenny Kissed Me" leigk Hum 687 

"I FearTby Kisses, Gentle Maiden". /"ewy Byssbe Skdlrj 688 

Love's Philosophy Percy Bysske SkOey 688 

Song, "The moth's kiss, first" Reberl Braaning 688 

Snnimum Bonum Robert BroicniHg 689 

TtK Fust Kiss Thadert Wmis-DuHlM tig 

To My Love Jokn God/rty Sore 690 

To Lesbia John Godfrey SoM 6go 

Make Believe Alice Cory 6111 

Kissing's No Sin UHimrwii 601 

To Anne WUIium MaxueO 691 

Soot, "There is many a love in the 

land, my love" Jtaauiii Miller 603 

Phylfit and Corydon Arliur CaUan 69J 



Table of Contents 

Matin Song Nalkanirt Fidd 604 

The Night-Pii™; To Julia Robert Hcrrick 69s 

MorainR William D'Aimanl bgs 

Malin Son^ ,.._. .^ ...,,.. . .TAoaas llryarood. - , . - 696 

The Rose Richard Lmdau epO 

Song, "Ste. sec, she wakes! SaUna 

wakes" WiUiam Cttigme 697 

Mary Morisoii Robert Burns 697 

Wake, Laily Jeanna BaiUie teS 

The Sleeping Beauty HaawH Roters 699 

"The YoanR May Moiiii" Thomas Moore 699 

"Row GeciUy Here" Thomas Moore 700 

Morning Kereoade Madison Cavxia 700 

Serenade Aubrty Tionias De Vtrt 701 

Lines to an Indian Air Ftrcy Bysskc Shdtty 701 

Good-N'iRht Ftrcy Byssiu ShtiUy 70J 

Serenade George Darltj joj 

Serenade Thomas Hood 704 

Serenade EdiMrd Coale Pinbiry 704 

Serenade Ihnry Timrad. 70s 

Serenade Henry Wadsmorlh LBngfcUaa 705 

"Come into the Carrfeii, Mauil". . . .Aljrrd Tennyson 70b 

At Her Window ..Frrderiik Lorki-r-LampiOH. . . 708 

Bctlouin Sonfi Bayard Ta^or 709 

Night and Love Kda-ard George EarU Bt^vtr- 

Lyllon 7IO 

Nocturne r*oiBit! Bailty Atdtich 711 

Palabraa Cariliosas Thomas BaOry A tdriik 711 

Serenade (hear Wilde 713 

The Litllc Red Urk AUrtd Pcrtnal Grates 713 

Serenade Richard iUddklen 714 


A Lover's Lulbljy - G-orer Gascoisnc 

Phillirfa and (.'orydon Mrholas fi'clon 

"Crabbed \rv and Voutli" William ShaitsPfare 

"It Was a Lover and Ili^ Lass'' lliW^im Shakespeare. . . . 

"I Loved ■ Lass" (rVuar fVilhir 

To Chlofis Charles Scdiey 

SonjT, "The merchant, to sciurc liis 

Ircaaure" .VaUheic Friar 

Pious Selinda William Congme 

Fair Hebe Join Wett 

A Maiden's Ideal d( a Itjisbiiiul Henry Carey 

"Phillada Flouts Me" t'liiiwiiii 

"When Molly Sniilcs". I'ninaa'n 

Contentions Vninm-n 

" 1 Asked My Fair, One Hapiiy Day " .VniBBrf rojrfw (Vmd*:? . 

Tbc Exchange Samii^ Taylor Coleridge. 

"Comin'Tlirotigh liie Rye" Robert Btirnt 

"Crecn Grow [he Rashes, O" Rnberl Burns 

Ilefianec Waller Sarase I^ndor . . . 

0( Clementina WaUer .Sarage Laudor . . . 

"The TlToel'i-e Lost ill \Vouini:"...7'*oBKu«ooi'e 

Dear Fanny Thomas U tore 

A Certain Voting Lady Wasiinnton Imag 

"Where Be Vou (ioiiiR, Vcm Dei-on 

Moid" John Reals 

Love in a Collase .Valhaniel Parker Willis. . 

Song of tlte Milkmaid from 'Queen 

lUaiy" il/red Tennyson. ...... 

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Table of Contents 

■Wouldn't You Lite to Know" John Godfrey Saxt 734 

"Sng HoBh-ho" Ciarlci Kmeslty 73J 

The Golden Fish Gterie Arnold 738 

TbeCourtin' Jamis Russell Lowrtl 736 

L'Ebu Donnante Thomas Bailey AUrich. .... 730 

A PrJnuDEC Dame Clttson While 740 

It. . , James JeMfey Roche 740 

# Don't Jamis Jefrey RiKhe 741 

An Irish Love-Song Robetl Undencvod Johnson. , 741 

GrooinsOld Waller Leaned 741 

Time's Revenge Waller Learned 743 

In Explanation Waller Learned. 743 

Omnia Vindt Alfred Cochrane 744 

.\ Pastoral Norman Gate 744 

A Rose ArlB Baits 74S 

"Wooed and Married and A'". . , . . .Aleiander Ross 746 

"Owiethe Moor Amnns the Heather 'Vmb GImcr 747 

Marriage and the Care O't Robert Lechore 748 

The Women Folk James Hogg 74g 

"Ifive is Lite a Diarfness" James Ilocs 750 

"Behave Voursel' before Folk" Aliianier Rodger 7Si 

Rory CM ore; or, Good Omens Sarnii^ Loser 753 

A^k and Have Samuel Later 7S4 

Killy of Coleraine Charles Dawsm Skaidy. 7ss 

The Plairtic C*or/« StWry 7SS 

Kilty Neil John Francis Waller 756 

"The Duie'si' this Bonnet O' Mine". Bfc™ ICaaj* 757 

TheOuld Plaid Shawl Francis A, Fahy 738 

Little Mary Casady Francis A. Fahy. 7S0 

The Road Patrick R. Chalmers 760 

Tirickenhain Ferry Thio^le ilarsials 761 


SoiiK, "I prithee send me lack ray 

heart" John SacUing 763 

A Billad Upon a Weddins John Suckling 763 

To Chloe Jealous Mallhrvi Prior 766 

Jack and Joan Thamas Campiim 767 

Phillii »nd Corydon Richard Creene 768 

Sally in Our Alley Ilnry Carey 7^9 

The Country Wefldini I'ninovm 771 

"OMetry may IheMaidbc" John Clerk 77* 

The Lass o' Gowrie Carolina Naime 773 

The Constant Swain and Virtuous 

Maid UnhurxH 774 

When the Kye Comes Hame James tlogg 775 

The Low-Backed C^r Samuel Lover 777 

The Pretty Girl o( Loch Dan. Samuel Ferguson 779 

Muckle-Mouth Meg Robert Br/ruming 781 

Mudilc-Moii'd Meg James Ballanliiie 781 

Clcnlogie. , I'Hknaim 783 

Lochinvar Waller Seoll 784.- 

Jock of Hazeldean Waller Scot! 786 

Candor Ilenry Cuyltr Biainer 7B7 

"Do you Remember" Thomas Hayncs Bayly 7S8 

Because Fdioard Fitzgerald 788 

Love and Age Thomas Love Peacock 790 

To Helen Winlhrop Uackworlli Frard . 7111 

At the Churd) Gate William Makepeace Tkack- 

n New Hampshire James Thomas Fields 793 

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Table of Contents 

Touiouni Amoui Edmund Ciaraict SledmaH . . 

The Doorstep Edmund ClartKce Siedmaa . . 

The While Yhf Jalm Hay 

A Song of tbe Four Seasons AuilinDnbim 

The Love- Knot Nora Perry 

Riding Down Nara Perry 

'■FoTgettin'" MoiraO-Nem . 

"Across the Fkldtto Anne" Rkhard Burlim . 

Pamela in Town Eam Mackay BiUclmuM 

Cerlisset , 

Yes? Henry CuyUr BuHner 

■^ -The Prime of Lile Waiter Ltamed . 

Thoughts on the CommaDdmenls. . . .Georfe Auguilui Baier . 


"Sigh no More, Ladies" WilUam Skaiesptare 

A Renunciation Edaard Vcrc 

A Songi "Ve haMJy swiilni, whose 

hearts are free" Georte Etknige I 

To His Forsaken Mistress Rabat Aylim I 

To *n Inconstant Robert Ayton 

Advice lo a Girl Tlmmas Campion i 

Song, "FoHow ft diadaw, it still flies 

you" t Ben Jonstn l 

True Beauty Francis Beaumont 1 

The IndiBerenl Francis Btaument I 

The Lover's Resolution George Wither l 

His Further Resolution Vnknmun L . 

Song, "Shall 1 tell you whom I love " . (CtAHiin Breane gi 

To Dianeme Robot Berrick Bi 

Ingraleful Beauty Threatened Thanua Carea 

Disdain Returned Tiomas Carew 

"Love Who Win, tor nll^ve None". r*i.wojA-i«™e 

Valerius on Women Tkomas Ueyimod 

Dispraise of Love, and Lovers' Fol- 
lies Francii Damsori 

^,)The Constant Lover John Suckling 

Song, "Why so pale and wan, fond 

lover" Jokn Suctling 8io 

Wishes lo His Supposed Mistress Richard Crashaa Sio 

Song, "Love in (antaslic triumph 

sate" AfhraBrhn 814 

Les Amours .Charles Collon Sis 

Rivals William Walsh 8a6 

"I Laldy Vowed, but Twas in 

Haste". Jahn fHdmixcn 816 

The Touchstone Samuel Bishop 8a6 

Air, "I ne'er could any luster see" Richard Brimley Shrridan... 837 

"I Took a Hansom oft To-day li'iUiam EmesI Henley 837 

DaCapo Henry Cuyler Bunnir 8ag 

-^ C Song Against Women Willard Hunlinilon Wrighl,. 8ig 

Song of Thyrsis Philip Freneau. 8jo 

The Test Waller Satage Lander 831 

"The Fault ii not Mine" Waller Sacage Landor 831 

The Snake Thomas Uoare 831 

'T*"When I Loved You" Thomas Moore 8ja 

A Temple 10 Friendship Thomas Moore 831 

The Glove and the Lions Leigh Hunt 833 

.-.* -To Woman. George Gordon Byron.. 834 

Love's Spite Aubrey Thomas de Vere 834 

L«dy Clara Vere de Vere Alfred Terutysan 835 


T»bl« of Contents 

The Age (rf Wisdom WiUuiiii Makepeace Thaih- 

eray 838 

Andna del Sarto Robert Brmatiiig Sjq 

Uyl-Bst Duchess Robert BmmiHg 846 

Adam, Liltth. and Eve Jtaberl Braimiit 848 

The Lorf Mistress Robert Brmimiiit 848 

Friend and Lover Mary Ainge deVere 849 

Lost Love Andrinp Lang 840 

Vobiicuni est lope Tkmnas Campim Sjo 

Fmr Winds Sara TeatdaU 8sa 

ToMiriwi Wa/nd Scawen Bluni 851 

Cnimwd Amy Lasell 851 

Hebe Jamtt Rttss^ Ltwdl. 8sj 

"Justine, You Love tne Not" Jo/m Godfrey Sate 833 

Snowdrop WiUiam Welw/re Slrry 854 

When the Sultan Goes to Ispahan . . . Thomas Bailty Aldrick 854 

Tic Shadow Dince Louve Ckandltr McuIIok. ,. S5G 

"Alon^ the Field as weCamaby" Alfred Edvmrd Bmuman.. . . 856 

"Wboi I was OnC'itDd-TwGDty " , . . .Alfred Edward Bousman. . , 857 

"Grieve Not, Ladies" Anna Uempslead Branch. . . Ssj 

Suburb Harold Uonre 855 

Tbe Betrothed Rudyard Kipling 860 


"ThcNigbt has a Thousand Eyes". .Fraitcit WiUiam BourdiUoH , S6j 

"I Saw my Lady Weep" Unkamm 86j 

Love's Young Dream Thomoi Uoare 864 

"Not Oura the Vows" : Bernard Barim 86s 

The Grave of Love Thomas Lne Peacock,' 86s 

"We'll ga no More a Roving" George Gordon Byron 866 

Song, "SinK the old song, amid (he 

sounds dispenine" Aubrey Thomas de Vert 866 

The Question Percy Bysshe Skelley 867 

The Wanderer Austin Dobson 868 

Egyptian Serenade George William Curtis 868 

The Water Lady Thoniat Hood 86g 

"Tripfring Down the Reid-paUi Charles Swain 870 

LoveNot Caroline EUtobeth Sarah 

Norton B71 

"A Place in Thy Memory" Gerald Gr^n 871 

Inclusons Eliiabelh Barrett Brovming. . 871 

Mariana Alfred Tennysoii 873 

"Ask Me no More" Alfred Tennyson 875 

AWotnan'sLastWord. Robert Brmming 876 

The Last Ride Together Riiberl Bnmming 877 

Voulhaod Art Robert Brmming 880 

Two in the Campoena Robert Bnnmtns 881 

One Way of Love Robert Brouming 884 

"NevertheTimeand the Place" Robert Brvaning 88s 

Song, "Oh! that we two were May- 

iTie" Charles Kingiley 88s 

For He Had Great Possessions Richard tfiddlelon 8SG 

Windle-straws Edward Dinnden 887 

te^e Thomas Edaard Broim 887 

CbeB-boaid Edmard Raberl BiJiver LyUoti 883 

Amllaliens Edaard Robert Bulaer LyUon 889 

Song, "I saw the day's while rap- 
lure" Charles nimsoH Towne 8gi 


Table of Contents 

The Lonely Road Kamelk Rani 8^3 

Evensong Sidgrly Tomact tin 

The Nymph's Song to Hylas WUliam Uorrit gg4 

No and Yes THomoi Aihe 80s 

Love in Dreams John Addinglan SytwnJi. . . BoS 

"A Little While I fain would Linger 

Yet" Paul namilum Uayne. ..... SoS 

Song, "I made another garden, yea ".^rlAttr O'Skannlmtssy lji)6 

Song, "Has summer come wilhoul the 

rose" Arthur O'Shauaknasj 807 

After PMlip Btwkt MatsUm 8g8 

After Summer Phiiip Boarkr Uarsloa 3oo 

Rococo Ahernojt CkaiUs Svmlninte (kx> 

Rondel Algrmon Chartes S-jiinbunu 001 

The Oblation Algttaon Cliarlts SwiKburiu goj 

The Song of the Bower Danfc Gatricl Rosselli ooj 

Song, "We break (he gliis.s, whose 

sacred wine" Edipard Coale Pintnry ooj 

Maud Muller .JohnCrceiilfaf WhUtitr gos 

La Grisctte OHver WemlfU Utimes v>9 

The Dark Man Nora tlfpprr oio 

Eurydice Francii WiUiam BourdiUm. gir 

A Woman's Thought Riciaid IValsm Giider 91 1 

Laua Veneris Leuiie Chandler Meullan . . . gij 

Adonais. Will Kaiiace Harney 014 

Face to Face Franta Cachraiu, gis 

Ashore Laurencr Hope gift 

KhrJBlna and His Klute Laurrnie Hope gi6 

Impenitentia Ultima, Enutt Doasoti gif 

Non Sum Qualis Eram Boiuc sub 

Regno Cynane Emal Deasim 918 

Quid non SRetemiiR, .AnuntcsP Emal Dcaton gig 

"So Sweet Love Seemed" Rabtri Bridgts OK) 

An Old Tune Andrea Lang 92a 

Refuge W^iiamWinUr 9JI 

Midsummer Eila Whedcr WUeex gji 

Ashesof Roses Elaine Goadale 933 

Sympathy AUhraCytes 923 

The Look Sara Trasdair 033 

"When My Beloved Sleeping Lies", .Irau Rulker/ard McLtoi. . 

Love and Life Juiie UaOilde 

Love's Prisoner Mariana Crisv 

Rosics. Afnei I, Hanraiaii 

At the Comedy Artkur Stringer 

"Sometime It may Be" Arthur Cotlon 

"I heard a Soldier" Herbert Trench 

The Last Memory Arthur Symendi. 

"Down by (he Salley Gardens " WiUiam Butler Vials 

Ashes of Life Edna St. Viatrnt MiOay.. 

A Farewell Alice Brown 


Song, "O mis(re3s mine, where are 

you roaming" WiUiam Shakespeare , 

"Go, Lovely Rose" Edmund Wailtr 

To (he Rose: A Song Robert Herrick 

Memory WUIiam Brmenc 

To I.ucasta, Going to the Wars Richard Lovelace.. . .. 

To Lucasta, Going beyond the Seas, . Richard Latdact. 


Table of Contenta 

Song to a Fair Young Lady, Going 

CMit of the Town in the Spring Jokn Drydtn M4 

Song, "To all you ladies now at 

land" Ckatles SadniiU. BjS 

Song, "In vain you tell jnjur parting 

lover" Uallhew Prior P37 

Bluk-Eyed Snsan Joht Cay 537 

IriJi Molly O Unknmm 

Song, "At ECtting day and riang 

mom" AOan Ramsay gfo 

Lodiaber no More, , Attan Ramsey 9,10 

Willie and HekB Bew AtmlU wi 

AbiencK Richard Jagn 04J 

"My Mother Bids me Bind my Hur" Atmt Ilimttr 94* 

"Blow High! BI0V Low" Charles Dibdin dji 

The Siller CrouQ SMsanna Blamire 043 

"My Nannie's Aw«'" Robert Bums 944 

"Ae Fond Kiss" Robcrl Burns 545 

"The Day RetumB" Robert Bums <)4S 

Hy Bonnie MiFy Robert Bums IM6 

A Red, Red Rose, Robot Bums 946 

I Love My Jean Robert Bariu and John Ham- 

illan 947 

The Rover's Adieu. fnjm"Rokeby".R'ii*n- Serf/ 948 

"Loudoun's Bonnie Woods and 

Bmes" Robert Tainsahili 949 

"Fare TheeWdl" Geargt Cordon Bymi 950 

"Maid of Athens. Ere We Part" Georte Gordon Byron 951 

"When We Two Parted" Gearge Gordm Bynm •>$* 

"Go, Forget Me" Charlts Wolje 9Sj 

Last Nrght Gtorgt Darky <)S4 

Adieu rioK-u Carlyte 954 

^nie Morrison Wmiam Motherwell 955 

Tbe Sea-Uods Orrick Johns 958 

Fairlnes. Thomas Hood 959 

A Valediction Eiisabtlh Barrett Brownittf . . 960 

Farewell John Addinflon Symends: .. 96a 

"I Do Not Love Thee" Caroline Elizabeth Sarah 

Norton 96» 

The Patm-tree and the Pine Richard MmuUon Uilnti. . . 96J 

"O Swallow, Swallow Flying South". ,^//™f Tennyson 963 

The Flower's Name Robert Browning 964 

To Maj^uerite Statlkm Arnold 966 

Scjnration IdaUhem Arnold 966 

Longing Uallhew Arnold 967 

Divided Jean Ingdoa 96S 

My Playmate Join GttenleaJ Whitlirr. . . . 971 

A Farewell Cmiailry Pslmtre 974 

Departure Coventry Palmare 974 

A Song of Parting B.C. Complon Matketait... 975 

Song, "Fair is the night, and (air tbe 

day" WUliam Morris 977 

At Parting Aigenum Chorlet Swinburne. 978 

"I( She But Knew" Arthur O'Shaughneity 978 

Kalfaleen Mavoumeen Louisa Macartney Cram'/ord , 979 

Rohtn Adair. Caroline Kef pd 979 

"If You Were Here" Fhitip Bourht Marsion 981 

"Come to Me. Dearest" Joseph Brman 983 

Song, "lis said that absence conquers 

love" Frederirt WUliam Thomas, . 983 

Parting Ceroid iiassey 984 

Tbe Parting Hour OfiK Custance 9S5 


Table of Contents 

ASonKof Aulumn. KamtB RtM 

The GitI I Left Bebind Me Unimeim 

"When We are Parted" Hamillm AM 

Remember ot Forget" llamUlm Aide. . . . 

Nancy Dawson Herbert P. Hone. . . 

My LilUe Love Ciocfcj B. Hauiky. . 

For Ever William Caldwett Kascoe. . . . 

Auf Wiedereehen Jama Kussell Lauvli 

"Forever and a Day" Tliomai Bailey AUrich 

Old Gardens Arthur Upson 

Ferty Hinluey Laarente Binym 

Wearyin'ferYou Frank L. Slantm 

TheLovcisof Mardiaid Marjurie L.C. FittUiaU.... 

Song, "She's Kunewhere in the »un- 

lieht stmnK" Richard Le GaUiame 

Ttke Lover Thinks of His Lady in the 

North ShaeiKuOSked...^ 

ChansoD de Roscmonde Richmi Hircey 

Ad Domnutam Suam Ernest Doipsbh 

Marian Drury Btiii Carman 

Love's Rosary Alfred Noyes 

When She Comes Home .Jame} WhUcami Riley. 


Song. "My silks and line array". . . .WMiam Blake 

Tbc night of Uve. Percy Bysske ShiUy 

"Farewell! If ever Fondest Prayer". Ceor/e Carian Byren 

Porphyria's Lover Reberl Browning 

Modem Beauty -Arthur Synums 

La Belle Dame Sana Merci Jakn Keats 

Tenului— TeiBS Joaquin Uiller 

Enchainment Artkar O'Shaug/meety 

Add Robin Gray Anne Barnard 

Lost Ligbt EJitabelh Aiers 

A Sigh Harriet PrescotI Spogerd. . . . 

Hereafter Harriet Ptescolt Spoford,. .. 

Endymion Oscar Wilde 

■~^"l*ve is a Terrible Thing" Grace FaUaw Nertm 

The Ballad of the An([d Thetdasia Garrison 

••iMve Came Back at Fall o' Dew" . . .Lisette Woadaortk Reese 

I Shall not Care Sara Teasdali 

Outgrown Julia C. R. Dorr 

A Tragedy Edith NesUt 

Left BeUnd Elitaielh Aieri 

The Forsaken Merman Uatlhea Arnold _ 

The Portrait Edward Robert Bulv/er Lyltan n 

The Ri%e and Thorn Paul Hamiilan Bayne 

To Her — Unspoken Amdia Josephine Burr 

A Light Woman Robert Brooming 

From the Turkish Georfe Gordon Byron 

A Summer WoiJng Louise Chandler it ouUon. . . 

Butt^ies John Davidson 

Unseen Si»rits Nalhanid Porta Willis 

"Grandmither, Think Not I Forget". Witfo Sibert Cather 

Little Wild Baby Uartartt Thomson Janvier. . 

A Cradle Song Nicholas Breton 

Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament Unkninim 

A Woman's Love John Hay 

A Tragedy ThlophUe ilaraals 

"Mother, I Cannot Mind My 
Wheel" WaUer Savage Landar 


Table of G>ntent9 


Airiy Beacon Ckarla Kh^day 

A Sa Child Blisi Carmm 

From iheHuborHill Cunat KeUl 

Allan Water UaUliew Crtgory Ltmi. ■ 

Forsaken Vnbuiam 

BoonieDoon Seiert Bum 

The Two Lovers Ritlnri Btmty 

The Vampire Rudyard KipUng 

Agatha Al/rtd Aniliti 

"A Kose WiU Fade" Dora Sigerson Sierler . .. 

Affaire d'Amour Uargarel Ddand 

ACssiial Song Sfflfcn Nod 

The Way of It Jehn Vanct Cheney 

"When Lovely Woman Sloops to 

FoUy".- aiTerGMsmilh 

Ftdk-Song LoMt! Unltrmeycr 

A Veiy Ok) Song WUHaM Laird 

"She Was Young and Blithe and 

Fait" narM Monro 

The Lasa that Died o( U)¥e. Rukaid MidOelen 

The Passkm- Flower Martaret Fuller 

Norah ZaiAkins 

Of Joan's Youth Louise Imogen Cuinoy. . . 

There's Wisdom in Women Rupert Brooke, .x 

Goethe and Frederika llatry Sidnwkt 

The Song of the King's MinBtrel Rickard Middlelon 

Annie Shore and Johnnie Doon FalrickOrr 

Emmy. -.--....- --,-.- Arthur Sym 

The Ballad of CamdanTowD James E 


Hrkn of Rirconnell Unhuimi 

WiHy J>iowned in yarrow. Unhimwn 

Annan Water Unktiam 

The Lament of the Border Widow UnhiiBVm 

Aiqiilia's Song from "The Maid's 

Trajtedy" John Fletcher 

A Ballad. "Twas when the seas 

were roarinj!" JohnGty 

TtK Braes of Yarrow John Logaa 

The Churchyard on 1 he Sands LorddeTabUy 

IVMin-strd'sSong from "£Ua". . .Thomas Chatlerloa 

Highland Mary RiAert Bunts 

To Maiy in Heaven Reierl Buna 

Lacy WiliiamWardsaorlh 

Proud Maisie Walter SeoU 

far«. "Earl March looked on his 

dying child" Thomas CamtAdl 

The Maid's Lament Waller Savage Landar 

"She is Far from the Land" Thomas Meore 

-At the Mid Hour <rf Night" Thomas Moore 

Od a Picture by I'oussin JoknAddintionSymoadi 

Threnody Rulh Cuikrie Harding 

SM«g as Death Hairy C»}il<r Bunaer ...... 

"I Shall not Cry Return" Ellen M . H . Galtt 

'Oh! Snatched away in Beanty's 

Bkmn " - ■ - George Gordon Byron ....... 

To Mary Charies Wolfe 

Uy Heart and I Elaatelh Barrel! Broaning.. 

K«Mtind's ScicJI Eliiabtth Barren Broaming. . 

LtBwnt of the Irish Ejnigrant Beleit Selma Sheridan 


Table of Contents 

The King of DeoDuA's Ride CaroUntEiiiQlitthSarakNor- 

Tbe Watcher James Sitpkens. 1089 

Tbe Three Sisters Arthur Daciion Fide looo 

BoUsd May Kendall 1090 

'■O that Twete Possible" Alfred Tmaysm 1093 

"Home They Brought Her Warrior 

Dead" Alfrid Tennyson 1093 

Evelyn Hope Reierl Breimnig 1094 

Remembruice Emiiy Brmit logs 

Song, "The linnet in the rocky dells". fiiHfyBnmM 1096 

Song of the Old lave Jtan Ingeimv 1097 

Requiescat MaUhac Arniii logS 

Too Late Dmah Maria UulofkCrcit. 1090 

Four Years Dinai Uaria Muioek Craik. lOQg 

Barbara Aieiandrr Smith noo 

Soiig,"WhenIamdead,inrdeanst"Cjb'u(»KiCr<v;iRiiXdu(U(. . 1102 

Helen Sarak Ckaiincty Woalsey.. .. iioi 

Love and Death Susa Mulkoliand 1104 

To One in Paradise Edgar Allan Pel uoj 

Annabel Lee Edgar Allan Put iioj 

For Annie Edgar Allan Pee 1107 

Telling the Bees John Greenleaf Wiiltitr. 1109 

A Tryst Lvvise Chandler It ouUon. . , 1111 

Love's Resurrection Day Ltuise Chandler Unidlon ... 1 1 1 j 

Heaven iiartha Gilbert Diehauau .. . 1112 

Jsnette's Hiiir Charles Graham Halpine.. . . 1111 

The Dying Lover Richard Binry Stoddard 1114 

"When IhcGrassShaU Cover Mc".., /bo Cwittfi/* 1.14 

Gfve Love Today Ethel Talbot 1115 

Until Death ElitaUfk Akers iu6 

Florence Vane Philip Fendieloa Cooke 1117 

"If Spirits Walk" Sophie JcoeU 1118 

Requiescut Oscar IVUdt .mi* 

Lyric, "You would have understood 

me, hod you wailed" Emtl Dmton 1120 

Romance Andrea Lang 11 n 

Good-Night Hester A. Benedict 11 Jt 

Requiescat Rosamund Marriolt IValsoa. iiii 

The Four Winds Charles Henry LUders 1 iij 

The Kind's Ballad J eyte Kilmer iiaj 

Heliotrope Harry Thurston P/ci 1124 

"LydiaisGonelbisMBny a Year", . .Lisetle Wood-worth Rcete. ... iij6 

After LiceUe Woodsivrik Rrese 11J7 

To Diane Helen Hoy WhUney luS 

"Music I Heanl" Conrad Aiken iiiq 

Her Dwelling-place Ada Foster Murray iiig 

llie Wife from Fairyland Richard Le Gallienne 1130 

In the Fall o' Year Thomas S. Jones. Jr 1131 

The Invisible Bride Edwin Markbam iiji 

Rain on a Crave Thomas Hardy 1133 

Patterns Amy Loiseli 1134 

Dust RufierlBrootr 1137 

Ballad. "The roses in my garden" Maurice Baring 1138 

"TfaeLittleRoseisDust,My Dear".Criii:''0as(irdC(«Uiii; ri39 



"My True-love Hath my HoM'- . ..PkBip Sidney irjt 

Song, "O sweet delight" Themas Campion ii^r 


Table of Contents 

The Good-MoiTOW Jalm Ddhiu 1I4J 

•■Tbere's Gowd in the Breast " Jama Utu 1 141 

Tbe Bctwai Maid Alfred ToHtyjoa 1143 

R«(uge A.E -1 143 

Al Sunset Ltuit V. Ledoyx 1144 

"One Moming, Ofal so Early" Jtan Ingthw 1144 

Across the Door Fadrau Csfvn 1145 

May MarKBret TUvphSt Uanials 114s 

Randd, "Kissirm her bajr, 1 sat 

■^inAt her Feel" Als'mon Charki Smnbimif. 1146 

A f^f'iB Journey AIke Frrtman Palmtr 1147 

TbeBroi^Hde Rklnrd UimcUau MUnei.. . 1147 

Sonfi, " for me the jasmine tMids un- 
fold" Florence Earlt Caalts 1148 

What My Lover Snid Homer Grrau 1140 

Uay-Muaic Rachd Annand Taylor 1150 

Song, '■Flame at the core of the 

world" Arthur UptoH 1151 

A Memory Frednic La;i-rrnii Kmrwles.. 1151 

Love Triumphaat Frederic Lawrence Knmiits,. itjj 

Lines. "Love within the lover's 

breasl" George Ueredlli iisi 

Love amoiiB (he Ruins Robert BrawHins 1154 

Earl Mertoun's SoiiE Robert BrmDiiuig iis6 

Meeting at Niftht Robert Brournina ii,S7 

Parting al Momiiu" Rahtrl Brmt-niHg iisj 

The Turn of the Road Atire Rollit Cae 1158 

"My Delight and Thy Delight' Keterl Bridgri iijg 

"O, Saw Ye the Lass" Richard Ryan ri59 

Love al Sea Aleernan thartrs Svmbiane. 1 159 

Mary Beaton's SonR Al^erum^ Charles Saiiibunu. iiM 

PliKhtcd Dinah Maria Mu!o<liCraik. 1161 

A Woman's Question Adelaide Anire Frailer iifii 

"Dinna AskMe" John Dunlop iiSj 

A Sour, " Sing lue a a«ec«, low song of 

nig^" HiUrxarde Baarlhtme 11&4 

The Reason Jania Oppenheim 1164 

"My Own Ciilin Donn" , . . . .George Sigerson 1165 

Nocturne. Amdia Josephine Hurr ii56 

SunenilcT Amelia Josepkine Burr 1166 

"By You Bum Side" Rabrrl rannaiitl I166 

APaittoral, "Flowcroftbem['dlar"..7'AA);&iJr Morauls 116; 

"When Death to Eilhcrshnll Come". ffoiefiBfiJuM,. iiOS 

The Recouciliation Alfred Tcnnysea 11O8 

Song. "Wait but a lilltc while" HorvumCalt udO 

CoDteot Norman Gale iijo 

Che Sara Sara Viclvr Pltrr. 1 1 jo 

"Bid Adieu to Girlish Days" Jamer Joyce 1170 

ToF. C Uarlimrr CMini 1171 

^>ing Passion Jorl Elias Spingam iiTi 

Advice to a Lover 5. Charles JrUiioe 1171 

"Yes" Richard Doddiidit Blackmort 1171 

Love - Samud Ta^ Celtrider ii7S 

Vetted Babberton Lulham 1176 

The Letters Alfred Tetmysan 1177 

Piothalamion FJmimd Upenser 1178 

Epitbalamion Edmund Sfenttr 11S3 

The Kiu Sara Teasdale 1104 

Marriage Wilfrid W Hum Gibson iigj 

The Newly- wedded Winthrop Macbwerik Fraei . ii« 

"l Saw Two^Cknidi al iAaau'Dg"JohnCardinetCiiltins Brain- 


Table of Contents 

Holy Matrimony JehnKiUe 

Tb* Bride Lauraict Hapt 

A Marriage Charm Afwa Hiipfir 

"Ltkealiverodtiii (be Lift" Jtait Ingflim , 

My Owen. Ellen Mary Palrick Dvaaittg i 

Doris: A Pastoral Arthur Joseph Mitnlyy 

"He'd Nothing but His Vidin" Uary Kyle Dallai 

Love's Calendar William Bett Scotl 

Home Dora Creenadl 

Two Lovers Georgt Eliot. 

The Land of Heart's Desire Emily UuKlinglm UiUer. . . 

My Ain Wife Alexander Laing 

The Irish Wife r*i>fiMj i'Arcy IdcCtt 

My Wife's ft Winaome Wee Thing. , . .Subtrt Burns 

Lettice Dinah Uaria liuloch Craik. 

"If Thou Wert by My Side, My 

Love" Reginald Hehtr 

The Shepherd's Wife's Song Rahtrl Greene 

"Trulh dolh Trulh Deserve" Pkiiip Sidney 

The Married Lover Cavenlry Palmare 

My Love James Russell LotvU 

Margaret to Doldno .Charles Kingsley, 

Dolcino to Margaret Charles KiHgsley. 

At Last Richati Henry Sloidatd 

The Wife to Her Husband Unkiunm 

A Wife's Sone WiUiam Cox Bennett 

The Sailor's Wife WUliam Julius MickU 

Jerry an' Me Hiram Rieh 

"Don't be Sorrowful, Darling" Rembrandt Pcale. 

Winifretla Unknown 

An Old Man's Idyl Richard Real} 

The Poel'a Song to his Wife Bryan Waller Protter. 

John Anderson Rabtrt Bums 

To Mary Samuel Bishop 

The Golden Wedding David Gray 

Moggy and Me Jame3 Hogg 

"O, Lay Thy Hand in Mine, Deiir".. .Gerald Uassey 

The Eicquy Henry King 


Sonnets from " Amoretti " Edmund Spenser 

Sonnets from "Aslrophel and Stella". fii/if^irfnfy 

Sonnets from "To Delia" Samuel Daniel 

Sonnets from " Idea " Mickad Drayton 

.Sonnets from "Diana" Henry Censlable 

SonneU WiOiam Shakespeare 

"Alexis. Here She Stayed" William Drummend. 

"Were I as Base as is the Lowly 

Plain" Joshua Syltiester 

A Sonnet of the Moon Charles Best. 

To Mary Unwin William Coaper 

"Why art Thou Silent" WUliam Wordneorlh 

Sonnelsfroro "The Houseirf Life". . .Danle Gahriei Rosseiti 

Sonnets Christina Geotgina Ressetti. . 

How My Songsof Her Began Philip Bourie ifarslon 

At the Last Philip Bourke Marslon 

To One who Would Make a Con- 
fession Willtid Scaaen B/iuit. 

The Pleasures of Love Wilfrid Scaaen Blunl 

"Were but ray Spirit Loosed upon 

the Air" IjHdseCktndlerUiipbon... 

p:hy Google 

Table of Contents 

Alia ifnouK i rfj 

"My Love for Thee" Rickard Walsim COdrt 1263 

SoDDCts after (he Italian Rkhafd Walim Gildtr 1164 

Stamas from "ModetD Love" George Meredilh 11^4 

Love in the Winds Richard Bmey 1169 

"Oh, Death Will Find Ue" Rupert Brnate 1269 

TbeBusy Heart Rupert Broolu 1170 

Hie Hill Rxpi^i Brmke 1170 

Sonnets from "SoniietatoMinada",.ICitfiiim Walsan 1171 

Sonnets Irani "Thysia" UorUn Luce 1173 

Sonnets from "Sonnets from the 

PorlUEUCw" Etizabelh BatreU Brmanmt. . J176 

One Won! Mote Robert Brmmtinc 1184 

"The WorUb too Much With Us". . . Wittiam tVordsvortJi 


The Book of the Woiid WiUiam Drttmnvmd 

Natute y«tM Vtry 

Compensation CeWa Thaxler 

Tlie Last Hour ElM Clifford 

Nature Henry Datid Thoreau 

Sons of NatUTC Ralph Waldo Emtrien 

"Great Nature is an Army Gay" Rkhtrd Walsm Gilder 

To Mother Nature Frederic Lawrence Knairles.. 

Quiet Work MaUhevi AmM 

Nature. .Henty Wadiworlh LoHsftlleui 1, 

"As an CM Mercer" Uakhn Leonard Fis/ier. . . . 

Good Company Karle Wilson Baker 

"Here is the Place where Loveliness 

Keeps House" Madiim Caaein 

God's World Edna Si, VvKenI MUlay 

SJc Vita WiUiMH Stanley BrailkaaiU. 1 

Patmos Bditk M. Tktmas. 


Dawn on the HeadUnd William Walsm 

The Miracle of the Dawn, Uadisim Can™ 

Dawn-angels A. Mary F. Robinson 

Music of the Dawn Virginia Bioren Uarrisoti . . 

SuoriseoD Mansfield Moualain Alice Brvmi 

Ode to Evening William Collins 

"Jt is a Beauteous Evening Calm 

and Free" WiUiam Wordmatik 

Gloaning RoIhtI Adger Bmaen 

Twilight OHvi Cuilance... 

Twilight at Sea Amelia C. Wdby- ■ 

"TUsisMy Hour" Zo'iAkins 

p:hy Google 

Table of Contents 

Song to the Evening Star Tkamas Campbdl 

The Evening Cloud , . .John WiUm 

Song: ToCS'nthte Be% Jamm 

My Star Raberl Brmmint 

Night Waiiam Blake 

To Night Prrcy Byssht Skdlry 

To Night Joseph Blaaca WkiU 

Night Jektt Addinglon Symaadi. . . 

Night Jama Menlgemery... 

He Made Ibc Night UoyJ Mifflin 

Hymn to the Night... Betiry Wadsmrtk iBafJeUtrv 

Night's Manii (Iras Edu'ord J. H'teefar. 

Dawn and Dark Normait Gait. 

Dawn, , Gorge B. L^gan. Jr 

A Wcxid Song .Rdpk Bodtson 


A Song for the Seasons. Bryan Wdier Prottrr 

A Song of the Seasons Cosmo Monk/must 

Turn o' the Vcar Kalhtriat Tynan 

The Waking Year Emily Dickinson 

Song, "The year's at the spring".. . .Rebtrl Bravming 

-Early Spring Alfrei Tenitysm 

Ijnes Wiitlcn in Eariy Spring li'iNHiin Wardncorlb 

In Early Spring Alice Meyaell 

Spring TIamtts Natht 

A Starling's Spring Riindcl James Cousins 

"When Dattotlils begin to I'ect" WHliamSliakeipeare 

Spring, from "In Mcmoriain" At/red Teimyson 

The Spring Returns C'liarlts l^eonard ilnare 

"When the Hounds oE Spring"' AlgernoH Cliarles Smmburne . 

Song, "Again rejoicing Nalurc sees".. Rofirr/ Buns 

To Spring ll'Uliam Blake 

An Ode on the Spring. Thomas Cray 

Sing Henry Timrad. 
B Meadows in Spring Edjcard Filigcrald 

The Spring William Barnes 

"When Spring Comes BaA to Eng- 
land" Alfred Nayes 

Now Life Amelia Josephine Burr 

"Overthe Wintry Threshold" Bliss Carman 

March William Morris 

Song in March WUHam CUmore Simns 

March Nora Hopper 

Written in March WiUiam Wvrdsvtrik 

The Passing of Mnr^h Robert Bums Wilson 

Home Thoughts, from Ahroad Robert Brmimitit 

Song, "April, April" WiUiam Watson 

An April Adoration Charles C. D. Rohrrls 

Sweet Wild April William Farce SUad 

Spinning in April JosephHie Preslon Peabedy. . 

Song: (Si May Morning John MUlon 

A May Burden Francis Thrrmpsan 

Corinna's Going a-Maying Robert Herrick 

"Sister, Awake" Unknvu'n, . ,-. 

May Edirard HoMll-Thiirtine 

May Henry SylTcsler Comv/eil. . . . 

A Spring LHt ... 1 i/ii*«m« 

Summet Longings .Denis Florence XftcCarlhy. . 

■ Midsumnier JohnTovmsnd Trowbridge. . 

• "^-■- - ^Song Richard WaUonGUdo 

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Table of Contents xlix 

Juiie. [ram "Tbe VUod of Sir Lann- 

fal" Jama Ruisdl Laiait. 1367 

June namiim Siniih litrris 1360 

Harvest Ettn Maciaj BuUhinsoa 

Carlusos. , 

ScnheSong Ati4rea Lmt 1371 

St^ember Gtorgc AmM 3371 ■'^•- 

Indiin Summer EmUy Dickimai 1373 

t>rcvEioa Ada Poller Murray >J73 

A SoOK of Eiwly Autumn fdckard Waism Older 1374 

To Autumn -/o*" Xmii : 137S 

Ode lo Autumn Thomas Bond 1376 1- 

Ode to tbe West Wind Percy Bysske SkdUy 1378 -"' 

Aalumn: a Di^e Ptrcy ByssluShdley 1380 

Autumn. Emily Dictimon 1381 

'■VliBil.beeimlistaithePuakin".. .James WkHctmt Riicy 1381 

Kott Prcdtric ifnnntn; 138J 

OW October Thomas Constable 1383 

NtFwmber C. L. Cleateland 13*4 

MoTonber MaMon Leonard Pishtr 138s 

Stora Few Roberl Frosl 138s 

WiDls: a IKrge Robert Bums. 1386 

Wd Winter Thomas Nod. 1386 

The Frost Ilatinah Flagi Could 1387 

The Frtotcol Pane Cbarks G. D. Roberli 1388 

Tta Frost Spirit John Greerdiaf WhiUif 13S8 

Smw Bitabelh Aktrs 1390 

To a SnoHflake Frantis Thompson 1391 

The Soow-Showct WHliam CuUen Bryant 1391 

UMainter John Townsend Trowbridgt.. 1303 

A Glee for Winter Aljred Domett I3<M 

The Death of tbe Old Yeu... Alfred Tennyson 13OS 

tMiie for the Year Percy Bysshe Skelley 1396 


Wildanaamkeit Ralph Waldo Emerson 1398 

"Wbeo in tbe Woods I Wander aU 

AfcMie" FAiteri Bev^Tharlaa i3og 

~" Aipccts of thcPiuea Paul Bamillon BayHt 1400 

"Dk Woodi tbat Bring the Sunset 

N(ai " Richard Watson Gilder. 1400 

— 4Jn<to tbe Leaves Albert Laighlon 1401 

"On Wenlock Edge" Alfred EdvMird Bousman.. . . 1401 

-What Do We PUnt" Henry Abbey 140a 

.J-HieTiEe Jones Very 1403 

The Brave Old Oak Henry FolhergUl Chorloy. ... 1*03 

"TV Girt Woak Tree ttaat's in the 

ttdl" William Barnes 1404 

To the Willow-tree Robert Berrick 1406 

Enduntment Madison Caieein 1406 

Tito Joyce Kilmer 1407 — 

TbHoUr-tree Robert Southey 1407 

Uk Pine Augutla WOsler 1408 

"WoDdinan, Spare tbat Tree" George Pope Morris i4og 

Tk Beech Tree's Petition Thomas Campbell 1410 

IkPopUrFidd William Comper 1411 

The Planting of Ihe Apple-Tree William CuHen Bryant mi 

OluOrdianl Kalherine Tynan 1414 

Aa(kdG>rdat Avignon A. Maty F. Robinson 1414 

--Jta Tide River CharUs Kingilay I4IS 

Tie Brook's Song Alfred Tennyiast 1416 

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Tabic of Contents 

Arethusa Percy Byiike SUUy 14*18 

The Catuact o[ LodDfE Reberl Sautiey 1430 

Song of the Cbattaboodicc Sidney Lanier 1413 

"Flow Gently, Sweet Afton" Robert Bums i+jj 

Canadian Boat-Sons Tlamas Uonre 1416 

The Marshes ol Glynn Sidney Lanier 1416 

TheTrouchs W^iatnWordivmlh 1430 

"~"Hynin bdore Sunrise in the Vale of ~^ 

Chamouni Samuel Taylor CtHtridgt, , , . 1430 

The Peaki Slitken Crant 1433 

KinchiniuBga Cole Ymmg Rice. 1434 

The Hills Julian Grenfdt 1433 

Hemlock Mountain SaraHf. ClegkarH 143G 

Sunrise on Rydal Water John Drinkwaler 1436 

The Deserted Pasture Bliis Carman 1438 

To Meadows Rabtrl Henitk i43g 

The Cloud Percy Byiihe SMUy 1440 

April Rain Robert Lineman 1441 

Summer Invocation William Cox Bennell.- t4*} 

April Rain Malkildt Blind 144J 

To the Rainbow Thamai Campbell 1444 


^fy-Gardep ■ ■ ■ ■ -.-.-.-.. Thomas Ediiiard Bruwn, .... 1446 

The Garden Andrevi Marveli 1446 

A Garden Andrew Mandl 1448 

A Garden Song Austin Dabion 1440 

In Green Old Gardens Violet Pane j4SO 

A Benedictine Garden Alice Brmm. .'. 14SI 

An Autumn Garden fl/iii Carman 1451 

Unguarded Ada Foster Uarray 1455 

Hie Deserted Garden Elizabeth Barrett Brownins, , I4SJ 

A Forsaken Garden Alsemon Charlei SMinbiime. n%i) 

Green Things Growing Dinah Maria UtUochCraik.. 1461 

A Chanted Calendar Sydney Dobell 1462 

Flowers Henty Wadsisorlh LtmtltUmo 1463 

Flowers Tkomas Hood 1465 

A Contemplation Upon Flowers Hetny King 1466 

Almond Blossran Edwin Arnold. 1466 

White Azaleas Harriet McEaen Kimbail. . . 1467 

Buttercups Wilfrid Thorley. 1468 

The Broom Flower Mary Bowill 1463 

The Small Celandine William Wardsmrlh 1460 

To the Small Celandine William Wordswertk 1470 

Fouivleaf Clover Ella Bigginson i47a 

Sweet aover Wallace Rice >472 

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud", . . .William Wordstn/rth 1473 

To Daffodils Robert Herrich 1474 

To a Mountain Daisy Robert Bums 1474 

A Held Flower James Monlgomery 1476 

To Daisies. Not to Shut so Soon Robert Herrich 1477 

Daisies Bliss Carman 147S 

To theDai^ WUiiam Wordsworth 147S 

To Daisies Francis Thompson 1479 

To the DandelioD James Russdl Lowell 1481 

Dandelion , Annie Rankin Annan 1483 

The Dandelions Hden Gray Cone 1483 

To the Fringed Gentian William CuUert Bryant 14S4 

Goldenrod Elaine Goodale Eastman 1485 

Lessons from the Gorse Elisabeth Barrett Browmng . . i486 

The Voke of The Grass Sarah Roberts Btryie. 1487 


Table of Contents 

A Song tbe Grass Siws Charkt G. Bianim 

Tlie Wild HooeyMCfcrs PUHp Fmuau 

Tbe Ivy Green Charles Dicllmi _ 

YcUow Jessamine Cmslancc Fenimort W<ialit» i 

Knipwcol A rtkur Ckrislophtr Beasm , . i 

Moly EdUk Maliida Tliomas - 

Tbe MominK-Gloty Fhttaa EstU Coalit, 

The Mountain Hearl'a-Ease Bret Harle 

The Primrose Robirl Herrkk 

To Primroses 60ed with Monung 

Dew RobalUerrick 

To an Early Primrose Hnrv Kirke Wkilt 

TbcRhodora RdpkWaido Emtrton 

TV Rose WiUiamBrmime 

WiH Roses Edgar Fawcea 

TIk Rose oT May Mary Hamit 

A Rose Rkiard Fanskaiee 

Tbe Shamrock Uaurite Francu Egan. 

To Violets Rabat Iltrrkk 

The Violet WUliam Witmere Slory. . . . 

To a Wood-Violet Jekn BaniiUr Tatb. 

Tlie I'iolct and the Rose AuguHa WcbsUr 

To a Wind-Flower Uadisim Cawein 

To BkHsonis Robert Herritk 

"Tis the Last Rosa of Summer".. . .Thomas Heart 

Tbe Death of the Flowers William CuUen Brjml 


OnrcanaTiOK Margarel Beaien 

To a Mouse Robert Burns 

The Orasshopper Abraham Cmilty 

On the Grauhopper and Cricket John Keats 

To the Grasshopper and tbe Cricket. .Leigh Buitt 

The Cricket WiUiaK Cawprr 

To a Cricket WiUiamCax Bennett 

Toan Insect; OUter WauUii Untmei 

The Snail William Cavper 

The Housekeeper Charlts Lamb 

Tbe Humhle-Bee Ralph Waldo Emerson 

ToaButlerQy Willian Wordsworth 

Ode to a Butterfly Thomas Wen/worth Iligginsai 

The Butterfly Alice Fteeman Fidraer. 

Krcdies Fdgar Fasucclt.. 

The Blood Hone Bryan Waller Procter. 

Birds MoiraO'Nm 

Birds Richard Henry Stoddard . . . 

Soi'BinU Eliaabelh Akers 

The Little Beach Bird Richard Hairy Dana 

The BlacklHrd Frederick Tennyson 

TheBhckbird A^nd Edteard Bousman.. . , 

The Blackbird WiOiam Emtst HenUy 

T1»e Blackbird WUUam Barnes 

Robert of Uncoln William Cvilai Bryant 

The OXincon Family Wilson Flagt 

The BoboUnk Tkimas Bill. 

My Catbird William Henry Venable.. . . . 

The Herald Crane Bandin Carlattd 

The Crow WHKam Canton 

To [he CndcoD John Logan 

The Cuckoo Frederick Locker-Lamfion . . 

To tbo Cuckoo WOUam Wordsworth 


Tabic of Contents 

TlieEigle AlfrtiTi^ 

TheHawhbit Ckarlrs G. D. Roberts ijjg 

The Heron Edxnard Bovdl-Tiutlmc. 1540 

Thejadcd&w WilUam Cmeper 1540 

The Green Linnet WHIiam WBtdswBrlh 1541 

To Ihe Maa-of<War-Bird Walt Whilman is4i 

TheMnryland Yeriow-Throat Henry Van Dytc 1S43 

Lament of a Mocking-bird Franiet Anne KemNe 1544 

"ONighUn«ale! Tbon Sardy \n" . .William Wnrdswortt 1S4J 

Philomel Richard Barnefidd i;4a 

Philomela Mallhew Arnold 1547 

On a NiRhtingale in April IViUum Skarp 1548 

To the NiKhtingHle William DrumiKond 1548 

The NtRhUngale Mark Akenside is49 

To the Nightingale John MUlon 1551 

Philomela PliUip Sidney 1511 

Ode to H Nigbtingale John Ktau iss* 

Soiw, T^s »we« lo hear the meny 

lark : . . .Hartley Caleridte isS4 

BirJ Song. Laura E. Riehtiris 1S5S 

The Song the Oriole Sings W^iam Dean Hwsdls 1556 

To an Oriole- Edgar Paiocai iss7 

Song: the Owl Alfred Tenojison ISST 

■' Sweet Suffolk Owl " Tliomai Vaulor. IssS 

The I'ewee Jahn Tenmsaid Trmtridge.. 155S 

Robin RedbtMat GtorKe Washington Daanc. 1561 

Robin Redbreast William AUinsham 1561 

TTie SnndjHpet CdiaThatlct is6j 

TheSea-Mew Eliiabclh Barrrll BroamiHt. . isfij 

To a Skylark WUIiamWordsumlk is<is 

To a Skylark William Wotdswtrlh 1566 

The Skylark Jainti Bote ijM 

TbeS^latk Pridtritk Tatnysan 1567 

To « Skylark Percy Bysskt ShtUty 15^ 

The Stormy Pctrd Bryan Wallrr Procler. isTi 

The First Swallow Charlolle Smith JS73 

To ■ Swallow Building Uniler our 

Eaves JancWdskCarl^c isTJ 

CHmney Swallows Heralie flelspn Fvaiers isjs 

Itylus Algernon Charles SiBittbume. 1576 

The Throstle Alfred Tennyson 151S 

OvtrBow Jokn Bamster Tabb is7(r 

Joy-Month Dacid Ata/oad Wasson 1570 

My Thrush ; Morlimcr Collins 1580 

"Blow Softly, Hirash" J estpk Rusi^l Taylor is»i 

The Black Vullure George Slrrline is«> 

Wild Geeac Prederiek Peterson 1581 

ToaWaliTfowl WiUiamCutltn Btyanl js8> 

The Wood-Dove's Note Emily Bunlingkm MUUr. . . isHl 


Song for all Seas, all Ships WailWkilman 1584 

Stanzas Ironi "The Triumph ol 

Time" Algernon Chartei Svinbiirne. ijSs 

The Sea from "Chikic Harold's 

pilgrimage" George Gordon Byron is86 

On the Sea John Keats 1588 

"With Ships Ihe Sea was Sprinkled "..K'ttfiamlTardnixir/t is8« 

A Song of Desire Prrdrric Lavrrnte Knoaies.. 1589 

The Pines and the Sea Chrislopher Ptarse Cranck . . 1590 

Sea Fever JolmMasefidd ihm 


Table of Contents 

HastiDo Mill. ..: C. Pox Smiili 

"A Wet Sheet and a Flowing S«" AIUh Ctmningkam 

-TlieSea Bryim WaUer PraOer. . . . 

Sailor's Song from "Death's J«st- 

" '" . .TMomai Lmcll Beddaes.. 

<D the Ocean Wave" EpesSargaU.. 

•■■ "" ..Walltr 

Tabling Sliip oS Shore WalKr Uilchtll. iSOS 

Id Our Boat Dinak Uaria Muloct Craik.. 1507 

Poor Jack C*«rfcj DiHin 1597 

"Rocked in theCradleof the Deep".. Emma ffnrflCiJ/ant. isgg 

Outward John G. Neikardi ijoq 

A Passer by Robert Bridtei itmo 

Oa Kiviure du Loup Duncan CompbeU ScM [601 

ChriiUnas at Sea Srbtrt Louii Sletemon 1601 

The Port o' Heart's Desire 70*11 5. U<Grearly 1604 

On Ihe Quay Jtkii Joy Bdl 160s 

Xbe Forging ol the Aocbor Samud Fatfomi ttnb 

Drifting Thomas Buckanan Read ibog 

"How's My Boy " Sydney D/^hU 1611 

The Long While Scam Jean Itifrlov 1613 

Storm SoDg Bayard Taylor 1614 

The .Mariner's Dream William Dimond 1615 

Theliurhcape Kodt RabrrI Soutkey 1617 

The Sea RUkard Henry Sloddatd 1619 

The Sands of Dee Ckarlts Kingsley 1619 

TV Three Fishers Ckarta Kingilty i6io 

Ballad Harriel PresioU Spojord., . . 1611 

The Northern Star Unkmwa 1611 

The Fisher's Widow A rlkar Symoia 1631 

Caller Herrio' Carolina flairiit i6>i 

Hannah Blading Shoeg Ltuy Lanom ibid 

The Sailor WOliam AUingham i6as 

The Burial o( the Dwte Il/nry lloieatd Brauntli jbi6 

Tom Bowling Charles Dibdin 1628 

He«miites Henry NewMl idig 

The Last Bucmneet CkarUs KiagsUy ' i6jo 

The Laat Buccaneer Tkomai Babinglon UacaiUay 1611 

The Leadman's Song Ckartcs Dibdin i6ji 

Homewanl Bound WiUiam Allingkam i6j3 


The Lake Isle oF Innisfree WilHam Buller Yeats. 1634 

A Wish SamHd Raters 1634 

Ode on Solitude Altiander Faft 1635 

"Thrice Happy He" WHliam Drummond lOjj 

"Under the Greenwood Tree' WUlittm Shakespeare il«6 

Coridon'sSong Join Ckalkhill 1036 

The Old Squire WU/rid SioiMn Bluni 1638 

Inscription in a Hermitage Tkomas Warlim 1640 

The Keliremenl Charles Collaa 1641 

The Country Faith /forman Gale 1644 

Truly Great WUliam H. Daties. 1644 

Early Morning at B«i:gis nermann Bagedom 1645 

The Cup Jahi Tmnutnd Tnmbndge.. 164s 

A Strip o4 Blue Ltuy Larcom 1647 

An Ode to hUster Anthony Stafford. rihHKiuJiiDHMU 164O 

"TheMidgesDanceAboontheBum"£<i^l TannahOl 1&51 

The Plow Riekard Bengisl Home i6SJ 

The Useful J'low Unhunm i6S3 

"To Ooe Who baa Been Lang in Oty 

P«nt" JoknKeau i6j3 


Table of Contents 

The Qaiet Ufe Waiiani Byri 1654 

The Wish AbrakaiK Cowley. i6js 

Enpostulalion and Reply William Wardiaerlh i6$a 

The Tables Turned William Wordiamik i5s7 

Simple Kat ore George JbIoi Romants 1658 

"lFtATnoPoweTaV/onnnWiMi"..ErHtit UcGaJey. lijo 

A Runnabie Stag Jekn Daridaw i6SQ 

Hunting Soilft Rickatd Bevey i66t 

" A-HuntiiU! We Will Go" Henry PitUimg 1661 

The Angler's Invitation Tkomai Tod SMiart i6&j 

The Angler's Wish ImakWallan 1664 

The Angler John Ouiikill 1665 


To Jane: the Invitation Percy Bysshe SkelUy i66t 

"My Heart's in (he Highlands' floberl Buriu. 1669 

, "Alar in the Desert" Tkamai Prinale i66« 

Spring Song in the City Robert BuckanaH 1672 

In City Streets : AdaSmilJi. 1674 

The Vagabond ftoberl Lottit Skvensm 1674 

In the Highlands Robert Louis Stevenion . .... 1675 

The Song my Paddle Sings E. Faiduu Jokasen 1676 

The Gipsy Trail Radyard Kipling 1677 

Wanderlust Gerald Gould i67g 

" ■■ — .. Katkerine Tynan i67g 

..Gertrude BuMingUm Uc- 

Gifert i68r 

Afoot Cfcwfaj C. D. Roberts. i68j 

From Romany to Rome Wallaie Inoin ifiS.i 

The Toll of the Trail Hamlin Garland 1684 

•' Do You Feur the Wind?" Hamlin Garland 1684 

The King's Highway Jokn S. MiGreatly 1685 

—The Forbidden Lure Fannie Steams Doris 16S6 

The Wander-levers Richard Bosey 16S6 

The Sea-Gipsy Riehard HoKy 1688 

A Vagabond Song Bliss Carman i68g 

Spring Song Bliss Carman 1689 

The Mendicants Miss Carman i6gj 

The Jojra of the Road Bliss Carman i6g4 

TheSongofthe Forest Ranger. Herbert Baakford 1696 

A Drover Padraie Colum .i6g8 

Ballad of Low-Iie^loira Madison CamiK 1699 

The Good Inn Herman Knitkfrbocter Viele. 1700 

Night (or Adventuren.. Victor Slarbatk 1701 

SonR, "Somelhins calls and whisprrs"CcDrgKii><i Goddard King.. . . 1703 

The Foreloper Rudyard Rifling i7o,s 

The Long Trail Rudyard KipliHg 1704 

PART rv 


Ballade of the Primitive Jest Andrew Lang 1708 



Table of Contents 

Advice WaUtr Savofe Landor 1710 

To Fanny Tiomas Moore 171 1 

"I'dbeaButteray" Tiomas Bayiua Bayly 171J 

"I'm Dot a Single Man" .Tiamas Boid 171J 

To WinArop Uackaorik Praei. IJ14 

The Vicar Winlhrop Maclmarik Prati. ijij 

The Belk at the BsU-room Winihrop Mackworlk Ftoei. 1718 

The FineOhl Enj-lish Gentieimn Unktimm. 1711 

A Temeiie of Littles, upon a Vifkm of 

Jelly Sent to a Lady Robert Henkk 1713 

Cliivalnr at a Discount, Edward FilsteraU 1714 

The BaUad of Bouilbbaiiae Wiiliaia Makepeaee Tkack- 

Tomy Gr&ndinother Prtdtrici Lochei-Lamtien . . 1718 

Hy Hbtress'g Boots. Predtrick Lfcker-LamptoH . . 1730 

A GinJen Lyric Frederick Lotitr-LamptM , . 173J 

Mrs. Smith Fredirkk Loiker-Lampsm . . 1733 

The Skeleton in the Cupboard Frederick Loeier-Lampsm . , 1734 

A Terrible lolant Frederick Lecker-lampsan . . 1736 

Coffipanioiis CkarUs Sluarl Calvairy i7jS ' 

Dorothy Q Olita- Wendett Bnlntes. 1738 

My Aunt (Xiver WeadeU Holnm 1 740 

The Last I..eaf Oliter Weiiddi Belnit, 1741 

CoDtentnent Oliter Wenddl Hainies. 174J 

TheB<n's Otiner Wendell Bidtiui. 174s 

The JoDy Old Pedagogue Giorge Arnold 1716 

On on Intaglio Head of Minerva. . . .Tkomas Bailey Atdriih 174S 

Thalia Tkamai Bailiy Aldrith 17SO 

Pan in Wall Street Edmund Clareiut SUdumn . . 1751 

UpuD Leabia — Arguing. Alfred Cockrani ijS4 

To Anthea, wbo May GHninsnd Him 

Anything.. Alfred Cockreue 17SS 

The Eight-Day Clock Alfred Cackrtne 1756 

A Portrait Joseph AikbySlerry 1755 

"Old Books are Best" BesrrlyCkne i7sg 

Impreaaion Edmaid Gain 1 75;) 

"With Strawberries" .Wiltiam Eneil Henley 1760 

Ballade o( Ladles' Naiscs WUHam Emett BaOey 1761 

Neil G«ynne's Looking-Glam Lamon Blanckard, 

Minmennus in Cburch IViiiiam Joknion'Cory 

CUy Edward Verrall Lucas 

Aucassin and Nicolete Praneii William Boiirdilliin . 

Ballade of Sumraer Andrew Lang 

The Ballad of Prose and Rbyme Aiulin Dobsm 

"Good-Night, Babelte".. Aialin Dohsan 

A Dialocue from Plato Anilin Dobiim 

The Ladies oF St. James's Aailin Debnm 

The Cur*'9 Progress. Austin Dobum 

A Gentleman of the Old School Aiulin Dabion 

On \ Fan AuiHn Dabion 

"When I Saw Vou Last, Rose" Aiulin Dobion 

Urceus Exit AuiHn Dobson 

A Corsage Bouquet Charles Benry Luders 

Two Triolets . Barrison Koberttm 

The Ballad of Dead Ladies Danle Gairiet RosseUi 

Ballade of Dead Ladies Andrew Lang 

A Ballad of Dead Ladies Justin Bu-Uly UtCarlkv. . . . 

n I Were King Justin {/unity McCorlHy. ■ . ■ 

A Ballade of Suicide Gilbert Keith Cheiiertm.. . . . 



Table of Contents 

Chiffonst WiUiam SoMutl JeknstH . . . 

Tbe Court Historian WalUr Thonbury. 

Mils Lou Waller deU Mare 

The Poet and the Wood-toux H dm Parry Eden 

Students FlorciKi Wilkinsim 

A Likeness WUla Siberl Caihrr 

Ttw Chaperon Henry Cujier Bufoer 

"A Pitclierof MienonetCe" Henry Cuyler Buttaa- 

Old Kinjr Cole Bdain Arlingfen RoHiueH. . 

The Master Mariner Cfwgt SIttting 

A Rose to the Living Niimi Walmian 

AKiH Atulin Dabsm 

Biltek auir ChampiEnons Henry AugHslin Beers 

Mils Nuut'S Gown ZUiUa Cocke 

Wing Tee Wee J. P. Denison 

MyGnDdmotfaer'sTuikey-TailFan.5antucf ifi'nfsrn Feci 

A Moral in Sevres Mildred Bim-cUs 

On (he Fly-leaf of a Book of Old 

Plays WaUer Learned 

The Talented Mao Winllmp Uarlm-Drik Praed. 

A Letter of Advice Winthrei Maekumrl/i Praed. 

A Nice Correspondent Frederick Laeker-Lampsm . , 

A Dead Letter Aiulin Doisim 

The Vympb ComplaiiuDS for the 

Death of her Fawn Andrea Mandt 

On the Death of a Favorite Cat 

Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes. . .ThoMOi Gray 

Verses on a Cat Charks Davbeny 

Epitaph on a Hare William Coaper 

On the Death of Mn. Throckmor- 

len's Bullfinch William Ciraper 

An Ei^y on a Up-Dog Jolm Gay 

My Last Terrier Jokn Halshan 

Geist's Grave Mallkea Arnold 

Laddie Katharine Lee Bain 

"HoW" Patrick R. Chdmers 


The Vicar ol Bray, Vnknaum 183s 

The Lost Leader Raberl Bnmming igj6 

Ichabod JoknGremkaJKkUlier 1837 

What Mr. Robinson Thinks Jamei Russdi Uxelt iS^g 

The Debate in Uie Sennit Jamei Ruisell Loaeli 1840 

The Matquis of Carabas Raberl Broufh 1843 

A Modest Wit Sellak Osbara 184s 

Jolly Jack WiUiam Makepeace Thack- 
eray 1847 

TheKingof BrenKord William UakcptiKt Tkaci- 

eray 1848 

Hoch! der Kaiser. A. Macgrtfor Rase. T849 

NongtonKpaw .Charles Dibdin 1850 

The Lion and the Cub John Gay 1853 

The Hare with Many Friends Jakn Cay 1S53 

The Sycophantic Foi and the Gullible 

Raven Guy Welmore Carryl 1854 

The Friend o( Humanity and the 

Knifc-Grinder George Canning 1856 

Villon's Straijiht Tip to all Cross 

Coves WiUiam Erneil Henlej 1857 

Villon's Ballade Andreic Lang 1858 

A Little Brother of the lUch Edward Sandjari Martin , . . 1859 


Table of Contents 

ri Thomas Pidds.. . 

The Wodd's Way Thanms Bailty AUttck . . 

Foe My Own Monument MaUkmi Prior 

The Behop OnlcTs His Tomb at Saint 

piued's Church Robrrl Brmmmg 

UpM a Vill«— I>oiminthcCity Rtberl Brnmiag 

AU Saints', Edmund Vales 

An Addresi to tie Uno Guid Raberl Burai 

TbeDeaoin's MastenMcre OfiwT Wendflt llidmts.. . 

Ballsdeof a Friar Andrrw Lang 

The Chameleon J""" Uftrick 

The Blind Men and the Elephnol Joka Codjrey Saxe 

The Philosopher's Soiles Jane Taytar 

The Maiden and the LJly -/oSn P'ar- 

The Owl- Critic ---■ ' "' 

The Ballad of Imitation 

TheCiHiundrumof the Woikabops. . .Rudyard Kiplmf 

The V-a-s-e Jama JfS"n Roche 

Hem «nd Haw Bliss Carman ,_ 

Miniver Chtevy. FdvHn Arlinglm RBtnmen . . 

Tien As'in ■Sum Walltr Foss 

A Cooaervalivc Charlotte Perkins Sicism Git- 

Similar Cases CkarloUt Perlani Slelam CU- 

Man and the Ascidian Attdrm io»«, 

The Calf-Path Sam Waller Foil 

Wedded Bliss .' Ckarlalle Perkins SleUaH GU- 

Tbe Hindoo's t>esth Ceortt Birdieye 

Ad Chloen, M. A Mtrtimer C-*--* • • • 

" A. Uka the Woman as You Can '■ . . . B'f"" 'I'r?"'™''* ■ 

"No Fault in Women" , . 5™"'."5^*- -^i 

"Are Woroen Fair" FratuisDavam (?) 

A Strong Hand 1^'^^?f.- 

Women's Loi«inr i"*" ^l^".^ 

Tricdet ■■. ^'fj^^'t: 

Tlie Fair CffTSSsian Richard Gamell 

TheFr— <><e Phaeton MaUhaa Prior 

TK Lure John Bayle O'RcUly 

The Ballad of Cassandra Brown Htkn Gray Cone 

A Reasonable Affliclion. Mallkm Friar 

The Woman with the Serpent's 

Tongue Wiltiam Waisan 

Sumose Amu Reete Aldrich. ..... 

Too CaiMlid by Half Jahn Godfrey Saxe 

Fiile . . .,„ Ralth Waldo Bmerion. . . . 

Htnnian's Will Vidmaum 

WMnai's WiH John Godfrey Saxe 

>^j^ Waller Savage Landor 

The Rtncdy Worse than the Dis- 
ease Mallhew Prior 

TTieNeof Law Jama Jefrey Roche 

Cologni Samuel Taylor CaUridge . . 

Epitaph 01 Charles II John Wilnal 

Certain Uaximaof Hafiz Rudyard Ki fling 

A Baler's Ihuzen uvWizeSawi Edvard Rowland Sill 

Epigrams , igrs, t9i6, 1317, igrS. i 

Written an a Lookine-glass Cninmwi 

An Epitaph George John Cojrfey 

On a Henpecked Squire Robert Burns. 

Genera] Summary Rudyard Kitting. . 


Table of Contents 


An Omai for Ladies Jaitpktnt Daskam Battn . . . 

"When Lovdy Wom«Ji " Plutcbe Cory 

FragTnent in Imitation of Wordiworth.CiUAmKe U. Famkam. 

Only Seven Ueiay Samkrookt Leigk 

Lucy Lake NfMim iiadiiHIosk 

Jane Smith RuJyard Kipting 

Father William Lewis Carroll 

The New Arrival Geerge (Taiteig/os Cable.. . . 

Drauter Ckarits Sluatl Cdtertey. 

•Twas Ever Thus Hairy Sambrocke Lagk 

a' Grievance James Kennetk SUphen 

"Not a Sou Had he Got" Rkkari Harris Barham 

The Whiting and the Snail LemsCarrM. 

The Recognition WilUar* Sawyer 

The Higher Pantheism in a Nutshell. .Altenuti Charles Smnbumf. 
The Willow-lrec WiUiam Makcptati Thach- 

Poets and Unnels Tarn Hoed, Ike Yotager.. . . . 

The Jam-pot Rudyard KipltHn 

Batlod Charles Stuart Calixrlcy. 

The Poster-Eirl CarUyn Wdls 

After Dillelante Concetti Hiriry Dug Traill 

It UortimerCeOiiu 

Nephilidia Algernon Charles Ssanburtu. 

Commonplaces Radyard KipKng 

The Promissory Note Bayard 7a>/sr 

Mrs. Jadge Jentins BrattarU 

The Modern HiawatHo.. George A . .Strong 

How Often Ben King '. 

" It I should Die To-nishl " «/n King 

Sincere Flat teiy Jant^ Kenneth Stephen 

Culture in the Slums Uilliam lu.tsi Henley 

The Poets at Tea Barry Pain 

Wordsworth James Kennelk 5/ert™ 


Father O' Fly nn Alfred Perceval Grans 

Father Molfoy Samuel Lovtr 

Paddy O'Rafthcr Samuel Lover 

LarrieO'Dee Willian W . Fink 

The Irishman and the Lady WiUiam Magiim 

Irish Astronomy Chojlii Graham Halpine.. . . 

The Fiddler ot Dooney William Sutler Veats 

TheBirthof St. Patrick SamuH Lmer 

Saint Patrick Benry Bennell ■^.•- .■ 

Mr Molony^.A;r;iuntottheBdl...»■iUia« Uaiepeace TkoA- 

Bachelor-s Hall ■/"*" ^W'?- " ■ " .ii, 

The Sabine Farniet's Serenade Prancts Sylvestir Makony . . 

The Widow Malone Charles James Ltwr 

Widow Machree Samud Lover 

The Peaceable Race ^*f '*"„A,1?'"''^,"'^L' ' ' ' 

The Recruit Robcrl WtllMamCkamb»s. . . 

Finnigin to Fia.nnigaJi S.W. (Milan 

Barney McGee Rakard Hiney 



Tsbk of Contents 

Tbc Pipe ot TobuxD 7ai« Ulitr 

Inter Sodlks William Emal Henley. . 

An Invitation Unknown 

AdMiniltiuii William Ualupeact TlMci- 

A Salad SyineySmiA 

Vcnes pUced over the Door at the 

Entrance into tbe ApoUo Room at 

the Devil Tavem Ben Jmsm 

Lines on tbe Hemuid Tavern Jebm Kiats 

"Give Me Ale" UnkHmm 

"Jolly Good Ale and Old ■' JnhiSliU 

Drink To-day /•*« Fletcher 

Coraeemus nos Rosis Antequam 

MarceKant Tluimia Jurtan 

The Epicure Abraham Caaiey 

DrinkiDK AbraJiam Ctuilty 

The Wliitei Glasa Ckarlei CnUtn 

Harry Carey's Reply RenTy Carey 

Gaffer Gray TJiamai BiJaefl 

"A Reason FairtoFHI ray Glass" Charla Morris 

"Let the Tout Pass" Ridnrd Brimdty ShtrWaii. . 

"Tbe Year that's Awa'" J^m Dnniop. 2 

John Barleya>m Xabert Buna » 

"nil the Bumper Fair" Thomas Moore ai 

"Wreathe the Bowl" Thenai Maert 2 

Saint Peny Thomas William Panoni . .. ii 

"Sparkling and Bright" Chaiiei Fcmo BeSmati ai 

The Mahogany Tit* Wmiam Makepeace Tkach- 

Todlln' Hame Vttknoan 

The Cruiekeen La«n Unhnown 

GfveMeibeOtd Robert HimcUty Majinger . . 

Tbe Spirit of Wine WUliam Bmtst Btnley 

"Day and Night my Thoughts In- 
cline" ..RiekatdEipry Stoddard 

FalMaS's Song Edmund Clarence Stedmati . , 

. The Maltworm's Madrigal A usiin Debsen 

The Power of Malt Alfred Bdviari Bouaman 

A Stein Song Richard Batey 

The Kavanagfa Richard Bovey 


Son^, " Whm daisies iMed and violets 

. .William Shaha'peore 

Tbe Widow AUam /tamiay 

Sneezing Leigh Bum 

Cautiooaiy Verses to Youth of Both 

Seiea Theodore Edaard Book 

ACredo. WiUiam Makepeace Thatk- 

Ilie Lay o( the Leidte WUliam Bdmoniloune Ay- 

Tbe Legend of Helm von Stela Charlei Godfrey Ldand . . 

HaUowe'en John Mayne 

"Yaw, Dot is So" Charles Pollen Adams. . , 

Two Hundred Years Ago WSiiam Henry Drummon 

Wreck of the "Julie Rante" WiUiam Henry DnimnoK 

Hinnpty Diunpty Addvu D. T. Wkiaty. . 


Table of Contents 

strictly Germ-proof Aiilmr daUmuK mj; 

CsveSedem! TkrodoriF. Macitimut aojfi 

Revival Hymn Joil CMandler Harris 1037 

The Power of Prayer £trjiuy and Clifford Lauo. . xyS 

Nebuchadneszar trwin Sastdl 1040 

Kentucky Philosophy Barriitm RobaUm 1041 

A PlanUtion Ditty Front Leb^ SlaUm 1043 

Angelina, . , Paul Lanrttue Dunbar io+j 

A Lay of Aadcnt Rome Themoi Vbarra 1044 

The Wisdom of Folly £^01 Tkunujcrtlt Fcwier, . . 1045 

The Post that Fitted Riidyard Kipling 1046 


No Thamai Boed 3048 

To Minerva Tkimai Hood xo^i 

The Alphabet Charles Slaarl Calvtrlty 3040 

ATragic Story Willtata Mabtptate Thack- 
eray >04Q 

The Jumblies Fjlward Lear joso 

The Owl and the Pusm-Cat fitooni Ltar rosi 

The Pobble Who Has no Toes Eiiuard Ltar ms3 

The Courtship of the YoDghy- 

Bonghy-Bo Edmard Liar 1054 

Nonsense Verses Ed-ward Ltar 2057 

The Turtle and Flamingo Jama Tlunuu Fietdi 1058 

Jabberwodiy Louis Corrofl jojg 

The Gardener's Song Leads Carmli ao6o 

The Walrus and the Carpenter Lncis CarrM 2061 

Songs without Sense Bret tlarte 2065 

The Lovers Pkodx Cory (?) 2067 

The Twins Henry Samhioelie Lfigh ™68 

A Threnody Geerge Ttanas Lanitan. ■ . . m>6o 

The Fastidious Serpent Henry Jokntlmt 1070 

My Reeollcctcst Thoughts. CAortu Edward Carryl J071 

Mr. Finney's Turnip Vntnvnm 1071 

The Siejje of BeUrade Unktunai 1071 

Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen WiUiam Sckaentk Gilbert. . . 1074 

To the Terrestrial Rlobc WUltairt Schaetuk GUbal . . . 307s 

"HisHeart was True to Poll"-. Frartcis Cmiiey Bumand.. . . 2076 

Red kidinft Hood Gvy Wetmore Carryl J077 

A Nautical Ballad Charles Edward Carryl io7g 

The Plaint of the Camel CAoriei Edvard Carryl 1080 

The Frog Ililaire Bdloc K>8i 

Sa«e Counsel Arllmr T. Quiiler-Ctuck io8a 

Child's Natural History Wikt nerford ia&i 

Id Foreign Parts Laura E. Rkhards 1084 

A Mosquito Triolet Arislinc Andersen 2085 

A Grain oE Salt Wallace Inein ao8s 

The Purple Cuw GdeU Burgess «j8s 

Nonseiue Verses GdeU Burgess J086 

Veis Nonsenslques Cearcedu Uanrier J087 

Home Vnkiumn 2087 

Four Limericks Can^yn Weill 21388 

More Lineridcs UnkHoum 2089 


AnElegyontheDcathoraMadDog.O/iwTGoMmii/*,. aogi 

An Elegy on That Gloiy of her Sei, 

Mrs, Mary Blaize ,, , .Othtr Galdsmilh 2002 

ThcDiverting HiMory of John Gilpin, IKiUiani Covpcr 2003 


Table of Contents 

Hk Ruor-Sdier JtimWalat 

The Thne Warnioai Btotr ThtaU Fiota. j 

Tbc Sailor's ConsolatiiHi Charles Diiiin s 

T«iQ ffShanUr Reberl Burin. j 

Uugiiily dug Cri)rgeC<JminlJti,yavngtt. . : 

The Laird W Codipen Carolina Nairnt ami Smaa 

Tbf Wcllof St. Keync Robert Sanliity .'. '. 

Addi^ ton Mummy Ilarau Smilk i 

jolui Crumlie Atian CimKinghtm 

TheNeolle Samad Woodinorlh : 

Meadventures at Marnale Richard BarrU Baihattt 

"The Cunaki Stood on tbc Car- 

ronaJe Frtdtritk Marryat 

FailUess Nelly Cray Thomas Head 

FiilhleM Sally Brown Tkemas Hood 

" I'leise to Ring the Belle" J'komai Bood : 

ad Grimes Aiitrl GarUm Crane 

The Annuity Ccrrge Otilram 

The Smicfc in School WiUian fill Ptdmer 

"The Pope He Lcadsa Happy I.iIe"..CAiirfes£eMf. : 

The Height of the Ridiciiluus Oliver WendcU Holmes. 

The BalUd of the Oyslerman Oliver Wendell Uolma 

LillJe Billee WOliam Makcpeact Tkach- 

Tbejadcdav of Khcims Richard Harris Barkam. ... ; 

The Alarmed Skipper,... JamtsThomai Fiddi 

TTk Puiiled Census Taker Jokn Godfrey Svu- 

Pyranuu and Thbbc John Godfrey San 

My KamiUar Jakn Godfrey Saxe : 

Ham Breittnano'!! Party Charles Godfrey Iclani : 

"Nothiiw to Wesr" WHliam Allm BulUr 

I>»iiB(;rceitandhiBFb'iiiK-MacbInc.j0An Tojettsnd Tnmiiridse. . 

ThcSodcly upon the Staoi^liuis Brel Ilaite 

Do»'sFlat BrdHane 

Plain LaiwuasefFoniTrulhEul James, ^Irrf Uorle 

The Relent Ceorne Pope U orris 

The Flilch of Dunmow James Camceie 

The Yam of the "Nancy BctI" William Sckaetick CUberl. . . 

CipUunRcece William Schvenck Gilberl. . . 

■■SpHdallyJim" Bessie Morean 

Rnbinson Crusoe Charles Edward Carryl : 

Casey at the Bat Ernest Laarenee Thayer. . .. : 

At a Cowboy Dance James Barten Adamt 

flehokl the Deeds Henry Cuyltr Buoner i 

tie FusI Baojo. Irwin RussM 

'■How Sle^ the Brave" Wmam CoBins 3194 


America Samuel Francis Smith sigj 

The StK-SpanBled Banner Francis Scoll Key aii>6 

The Aoierican Flag Joseph Rednutn Drake 31Q7 

VaniEce Doodle F-dicard Bangs (?) iiq^ 

Hail! Columbia Joseph Hepkinlon 2100 

Cc4uiiibU Timathf Puighl iMl 


Table of Contents 

"ObMothetotaMigitjr Race" William CtUkn Bryant stoj 

Hymii of the West Edmtaii Ctareaat Sttimtan , . 1104 

Concord Hyma. . . .,- «a'M WoWo EmetiM a»os 

Battle- Hymn of il« Republic Jaiia Ward Ilaici 1106 

The Eagle's i*jQK Sithard Mansfietd ajoj 

The rii# '>!>'* By Dairy 11 alami Smitett. itoB 

Urnp-iifest Destiny RUIiard Hotey tiog 

paaSoJdlcrFalieninthePhilipfriaes.H'iUiam Vaii%lm UBoiy itio 

An Ode in Tune of HeiiUtioii tCiUtom Vaughn ilaoiy. . . . tail 

The Parting of the Ways Joapk B.Cildtr aiiy 

Diiie Danid Decatur EmiMt !3i8 

Dixie Albtrt Pike «iiq 

My Maryland Jama Ryder Randalt. 2110 

The Virginians of the Valley Francis Orray Ticknor ajjj 

America to Great Britain ICauUiijrlan AltsleH aij^ 

To England Ctergt Hairy Bokcr aiic 

America Sydney DabtU 2«s 

To America Alfred A utlin aij6 

Saioo Grit Robert CoUyer tiaj 

At Gibraltar Giorrt Edaard Wondifrry,. . aiig 

Gibraltar Wil/rid Scawai Blunt 1230 

Mother England Edith U. Thomas tiso 

"God Save the King" Henry Carey (?) aaji 

Rule, Britannia Jamet Tkemson aiit 

" Ye Mariners ol England " Tkomai Campbell. 113 j 

"Ready, Ay, Ready" Herman Charles MtrinJe. . . 1134 

"0( Old Sat Freedom on the Heights "^(/rcd Tamyian 3335 

Ad Ode in Imitation of Alcocus William Jones 1136 

England, 1803 William Werdiaorth aij; 

"England, My England" William Emetl Heniey 3130 

England Gerald Maiiey. . . 1140 

The Song ot the Bow Arthur Cman D^i- ■ 3341 

An English Mother Robert Vnderwoa '■'inien.. *J43 

Ave loiperatrix Oscar Wilde 3344 

Recessional Rudyard Kipling 1148 

The Wearin' 0' the Green Hnknomi 3349 

Darlt Ro<ialeen James Clarence Mangan .... 3340 

Exile of Erin Themas CampbeU 3253 

Andromeda James Jeffrey Roche. 3353 

Ireland Lionel Johnson ajj3 

To the Dead of 'oS Lionel Johnson 3361 

The Memory of the Dead John KeUs Ingram 3363 

Cushia ma Chtee John Phil pol Curran 3163 

The Green Little Shamrock of Ireland,,<iHfr<TOCfti-»Ty. 3364 

My Land Thomas Osborne Oatis ai6s 

Painne Gael an Lve Alice MHIigan 33^5 

Irehind Stephen Lucius Cwyniie ij66 

"Hilbo' My Heart" ElknaCarbery 3367 

Scotland Yet Henry Scott RiiUeU 3168 

The Watch on the Rhine After the German of Max 

Scknrchenberter i35g 

The German Fatherland From the German of Ernst 

Morilt Arndi 2370 

The Marseillaise After the French of Rougel de 

Lisle 327 1 


"CharUe is My Darling" Uniamm 3373 

The Farewell Roierl Bums 2374 

"Here's a Health to Them That's 

A**'" RtbtrtBurm ai7s 

p:hy Google 

T»ble of Contents Ixiii 

'■'.y!^^::::::: ,„6 

The Blue Bells of Scotland. 

The Bonny Earl o( Murray _ 

Pibrocb of Dould Dbu WaUer San 

Border BalUd Waiiir ScoU'.' . 

"When Banners are Waving" Uninmin j,'.^ 

The British Gienadiers UaknaaiK ", ,,iX 

Hart of Oak DaxUGiurkk ■.'.■. ,,^ 

The Soldier's Dream Tlumas CampbdJ. in. 

The Cavalier's Song. WiUiam UoUKnoeU 1182 

Cavalier Tunei Robtrl Brmiming 2i8j 

The Song of the Camp Bayard Taylor 2185 

Revrille Miduel OVtimiir isSe 

"I Give my Soldier Boy a Blade" William ilagina ijSt 

Stooewall Jackson's Way JakH Williamson Palmer . . . siSS 

Mask in Camp Jokn RiabtKThonpsoii 2189 

The "Grey-horse Troop" Robirl W . Ckambtrs 1291 

Danny Dcever Rudyard Kipling iigj 

Gunga Din. .., Rudyard KipUng 1294 

. 1108 


"Soldier. Rest, thy Warfare O'er ". . . Widltr Sarll 1301 

"Peace to the Slumbcrcts" Tkanai Uimrt 2301 

The Minstrel- Boy r*oniaj Uoore ijoj 

"It i« Great forour Country to Die".. Janci Gales Percital 2303 

A Ballad of Heroes Auilm DabstH 1304 

The Captain's Feather Samuil MiHlum Peck 1305 

Enstand's Dcnd Felicia Dnrelkea Uemans ijo6 

The Pipes o' Gonlon's Men J. ScM Cloigau 13OT 

The Blue and the Cray Francis MtUs Finch 130S 

The Bivouac o[ the Deed TktDdire O' Hara 13'° 

RoU-Call Nalkanitl Grnkam Skepkerd. 23 13 

DirgR Thomas WUtiam FarsBHS. . . 13 14 

Diqie for a Soldier George Binry Baker 231J 

"Blow, Bugles, Blow" John S. McCroarly J316 

"Soch is the Death tbeSoIdier Dies". Aj*n-/Bii™jB'aj»(i 2J17 

The Brave at Home Tk«mai Buchanan Read ijiS 

Somebody's Darliog Marie R. La Cesle 2318 

Little Giffen Francis Orray Ttiknitr jjto 

Ode. Henry Timrod aj2i 

Sentinel Swigs AbramJ. Ryan ijm 

Heroes Edna Dtan Froclar 2323 

TheOnlySon Henry NewhoU 2324 

Yoong Windebank ISargartl L. Woods 232s 

A Harrow Grave in Flanders Robert Offley Asklmrlon.. .. 1326 

V. D. F, Vnknmn ijj6 


He Destruction of Semucberib Georce Gordon Byron 2317 

The Vision of BeUiaxiar, George Gordon Byron 2318 

Hoiilius at tbe Bridge Thomas Babinglen Macaulay 1319 

L<onidas George Croly 1345 

Antony lo Cleopatra WilliaM Haines Lyile 2346 

Boidicea Wiliiam Cireper 3348 

"tie Never Smiled Again" Felicia DorMkea Bemans — 2349 

Bmrelnhis Men at Bannockbum. . , .Robert Bums >350 

Coroeadi Waller Scott. IJS' 

Cttqr Francis Tui 

Hk Patriot's Pass-word . 

.James Moalgomery.. . 


Table of Contents 

The Battle of OtWtbiira Uniaaam Ijs6 

Agincourt Mkhad Draylen ii6i 

A Ballad or Orieans A. Mary F. ftabiiam Ij64 

Columbus LydiaHunUej SigOHmey... a.iOs 

Columbus Joaquin MUlrr >i66 

A Lan>«t lor ITwldcn Jaac ElKal I.i68 

Sir n umphrey Gilbert Henry Wadsworlh Lan^rllto! j j&S 

rke Armada Tienuu Babintlaii Mofoulav ;j70 

"God Sa*e Elizabeth" Francis Turner Pal^art. . . ijt.I 

Ivry Thurnas Babinglm Maiavlay !,!74 

The "Revenge" Aljnd Tcnnysm 2.17T 

The Song of the Spanish Miin Jalm Bnnell J.iBi 

Henry Hudson's Qurat Barlm EtbrrI Slnntim i.(Ki 

To the Virginian Voyace Hickatt Drayton i.lS* 

"The Word of God to Lcyden Qainv''.Jamiah Eames Raniin 3,186 

The LandinROt the lllgrim Fathers... /•■c(icioDofW*<MH™«i'r.... 2.lK7 

The Mayflower l-raslus Welrelt FJlsuvrlk . . . a.iXo 

The Pilgrim Fathers John Pitrponi ili>o 

The Battle of Naschy Themas Babinalan Maf<i»:<iy 

The Execution of Montrose WUtiam FdmoH«eunt Ay- 

An Horatian Ode Upon CromwcU's 

Return from Ireland Andrcto Marrell '400 

On the Late Massacre in Piedmont, ..John Uillim 3404 

Morfian FAmund Clarence Sledtnaa . . 1404 

The Lamentable Ballad ol the Bloody 

Brook FJteari Evtrrtl naif J406 

The SonK of the Weslem Men Roherl Slephtn Hamktr J407 

Bonnie Dundee Walirr Scolt 240* 

A Ballad of Sarsfield Avbrty Themas De Vert. ... 34 "> 

The Battle of Blenheim Robert Saulliey 1410 

Lovewell's F'ighl Unknmai 14" 

Admiral IJosier's Ghost Rii-kard dmrr 341s 

Fontcnoy Thomas Osborne Davis 3417 

Lament tor Culloden Robert Bums i.tro 

A Ballad of the French Fleet Henry B'orfmwf/* Langfelteee mt 

Paul Revere's Ride Henry WaJmvrlk LongfdJoiB nil 

New Enitland's Chevy Edaitri F.tereU Hale 3<n6 

Warren's Address at Bunker Hill John FierponI S4J8 

The Manland Battalion John Witliamsim Palmrr.. . . 343O 

-Seventy -Sin William Cullm Bryant 24,1' 

Song of Marion's Men Wiaiam Cullen Bryant 34J» 

Carmen Bellicosum Guy Humphreys UcMasler.. 2433 

On the Lossot the "Royal CcorBe''...ICa(iomC(w^, 

Ctonona Arthur Conon Davlr 14)6 

Casablanca Felicia Dorothea Uemans.. . . J4,io 

Hohenlindett, TIames Campbell 3440 

Battle of the Baltic. Tkomas Campbrll. 2441 

TheFiBhlinKXemfraire., Henry N emboli 1444 

Skipper Ireson's Ride Jalm Greadeaf WhiUier. 1445 

The Burial of Sir John Moore after 

Corunna Charles Wolfe 1448 

Inddenl of the French Camp Robert Bemmint 344^ 

The Eve of Waterloo George Garden Byron 3450 

Waterloo Aaireyde Vere. 34S1 

Marco Bozlaris Fitt-Greent Hallrch 3453 

OW Ironsides OHner Wmdeil llolaies 2456 

The Valor ot Ben Milam Clinlan Scollard I4S7 

The Defence ot the Alamo Joanuin MiOer 24S8 

The Fight at S«n jadnto JohnWWiamson PtUma . . . a4,?9 

The Wreck of the TIcspeni<i Henrv Wadsworlh Lmaffllav 3461 

The Lost Colors Eliiabelk SIttarl Phelpi Wufi 0464 


Table of Contents 

A Ballad of Sir John Fmiklia GturfC Henry Baker . i46( 

MonUicir Ckarlts FcHiw Haffman 1470 

Pescbiera Arthur Huei Clauak laji 

TKc Loss at tbe Birkenhead Francis UaiH'its bovie itji 

The Charge of the Light Brigade Alfred Tinnysm... ' 3471 

The Relief of Lucknow. Robert TraiU Sptace t^vll 3475 

ThePrivaleodheBufls, FratKii HasltBts DaiU J478 

How Old Brawn Took Uarpcr'3 

Ferry Edmund Clarenee Slidnuui. . 1470 

Brown of Ouatratomie John Crcnleaf Whiititr 1484 

Brother Jonathan's Lament for Sister 

Caroline OtiverWendMHelmes J4S5 

The Reveille Bre! Ilarle 1487 

The Washers of the Shroud Jamei Rnsstll LmxU 1488 

The Picket-Guard ElM Lynn Beers i4gi 

Civil War Ckarlts Daiesen Shanly.. . . . a4Qj 

Kearny at Seven Pines Edmund Clarence Sledman . ■ 140J 

BiHwra Frietchie Jthi Grtenlet^ Whillirr. . . . 1404 

Keenans Charge Geor%e Panoas Lalhnip 341)7 

The Black Regiment Crorge Henry Baker 3500 

ThelliRhTidcatGeltysbiUK Will Henry Thompson 2501 

Johns Bums <A Gettysbun; Brtt Ilarle , . , 3504 

Farragut ...William Tucker Uereiilh... 1507 

Craven. l/iHry Nraboll 350P 

Sheridan's Ride Thomas Buchanan Read. ... 3510 

Son«o(Shcman'sMBrchtolheSra..5<iiB»J/;.lf.By(ri.. ... 1511 

A Second Review ol the Grand .^rmy . Bret Ilarle 3513 

The Conquered Banner. . , Abram J. Ryan ijiS 

Driving Home the Cows Kale Putnam Osgood 3517 

Ode Recited at the Harvard Com- 

memoralion Jamrs RusstB L'B'eU »5i8 

Custer's Last ChatEe Frederick Wldllaker 3520 

The Last Redoubt Alfred A Milin . 3531 

"Fujay-wuizy", Radyard Kitting 0533 

TheWoid of the Lord from Havana. .Richard llmcy 2SJ5 

Dewey at Manila Robert Undrricaod Johnson. , 3537 

Deeds erf Valor at Santiago Clinton Scollard 2540 

Breath on the Oat Jtseph Russell Taylar 3541 

When the Great Cray Ships Comein..CiiyHV/»iwfC8fFiy/ »S43 

1Q14. Xuperl Brooke 3544 

Tlie Fourth of .August Laurence Binytn 1546 

August, lOK John UasrfielJ. 2S47 

AChantof Hate Against England.. . .Barbara Ilenderton, Ir 3549 

A Chant of Love for England Helen Gray Cant 2551 

Sonnets Written in the Fallot 1414... George £dinir<fH'Dn(ic7r>... 3551 

Vouth in .Arms Ilarald Monro 3555 

Magpies in I'icardy Uninaii-n 2556 

Songs friMn an Evil Wood Lard Dunsany 3557 

"I Havea Rendezvous with Death"., ^/uiiS«j;fr 2560 

The Sjwres of Oxford Wini/rtd it. LtUs 11560 

All's Wdl F. W. Baurdiilm 3561 

Rcvdlie ... .lAmi,' Unlermeytr 2563 

To the United Stales oFAmerira Robert Bridges 2561 

Your Lad. and my Randall Parrish 3563 

A Poet Enlists A mrlia Josephine Barr 1564 

On the Prospect ol Planting Arts and 

Learning in America Geergr Brrielcy. 2565 

Bermudas Andrr^v MnrwU 3566 

Indian Names tydia Uunlley Sitivnty . . . 5567 


Table of Contents 

Mannabatli ,. . .WaitWhilman. asM 

Gloucester Moors Wiiliam Vaufhi Heady 1560 

The Song of the Corado Skartut M. HaU 1571 

Now Harriel Uimnc 1573 

Out WheK the West Begins Arthur Cliapmaa IS74 

The tJ" of the Yukon Xoberl IV.tifrvite 1575 

tlaei Comnosed a few Miles above 

Tintem Abbey Williaai Wordnmrlh 1578 

The Pass of Kirkslonc.. Iftf-'mn Wardsvwik 358; 

Yarrow Unviated IVUliam If onteBwI* 1584 

Yarrow Visited William Worissuorlk 2586 

On ■ Distant Prospect of Eton Col- 

legc rfawBB! Gray 2580 

A SoHB of Sherwood Alfred Noyti 1 . . . asfli 

Godiva Al/rcd TeanysiiH ijgj 

Dover Beach MMhri- Arnold isgs 

St. Micharl's Mount Jokn Datidsm 1506 

Sonnet Composed Upon Westminster 

BriciBC William WarduMinh 1557 

A SonK of Fleet Street AliftWcmrr 3507 

SonR Jahi DacidseH 3508 

St. James's Street Frederick Lmkrt-Lampson. . 2500 

The South Country ,. llUairt Bdloc i6oi 

EillnbuTKh Alfred If ffyrt i6oj 

Conymeela Maira O'Nrill i6o^ 

TheLittle Waves of Breffny EraGttr-Bnalh 1(105 

A SonR of Glenann itoira O'Neill, i6os 

The Maiden City Charhllr FJiidbclh Ttnma. . . 1606 

The Dead nt Cionmiicnois T.M. RoUesUm 2607 

Sweet Innisfallen Thamas Moore 1607 

"Ah, Sweet is Uppemry" Dmii A'lysius MeCariliy... i(io8 

The (irovGs of Blame}' Riehara Alfred llUIHin j6oo 

The Bi'lls of Shandon Francis Sylmltr Hahony. . . 1610 

"De Gurtibua — ". Roberf Bro-i-nins sGii 

Italian Rhapsody Rebrrl UadrrVMod Jaknsm.. ifii.i 

Above Salcmo Ada Feun ifurray, 2fti6 

Venice Cearge Gordon Bynm 3618 

Venice , John Addinsbm Symondi. . . a6ig 

On the Extinction oC Ihe \'enelian 

Republic William WordTKOtlh i6ic 

The Guardian-.KnBcI RobrrI BrmnHitig s6jo 

Pcrutria Amdia Joirpkinc Burr itiii 

"There is a Pool on Gnrda" Clinlm Scellard Jftj.i 

Chorus fmm "Hellas" Percy Bysslie Sheltry jGm 

The Isles of Greece, , , G/or[e Gordim Byron Jdsj 

The Belfry of BruBes Henry Wads^i-orlh LougfrUani ibij 

Nuremlierg tlrnry Wadruvrik lAmtffUoa ibji 

Biogen on the KhLne. CaroiineElisabelk Sarah. \or- 

lon 3634 

" As frame Down troml*banon"...C(in(i>B.Sc(>afli'rf 2(137 

Ceylon A. Iliisli Fhkrr 1(1,18 

Mindalay Rudyard Kiplins 2638 

Nubia BayardTayior ad^o 


Thomas the Rhymer 

Earl Mar's DauglUcr 

The Twa Sisters unmimii. 

The Wife of Uther's Well Unkxmn. . 

A Lykc-Wakc! Dirge I'nkno^i-n. . 

The Douglaa lYagedy UnhtBon.. 

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Table of Contents 

Pair Annie. Unbiowa itisb 

TV Lass ol Lochroyan Unioimrn 2O60 

YouiM! B« -and Susie Pye UnknineH :b66 

TIk Gny Ros-Uawk (/niiwoB »6?i 

Smet William ojid May Mare'rct. . .ViikiuKm idjfi 

Willy Rcilly Vntiunon 1678 

The Twa Corhles UnkHeum 2680 

Tht Three Havens Unkaaiai 3680 

LordRandaJ Unbtoan j68i 

Edward. Edward Vnknaaii idKj 

Ridilles Wi««ly Eifmnndnl ...Unknnm i68j 

Sir Patridt Spens Uaknotm 1(185 

Edoni o' Gordon Unhimm ibf» 

Robin Hood and AHen-a-Dale Uutiunat :6gi 

Chfvy-Chjise VainBUM 1695 

Birbara Allen's Crodty Utihumn ■^^a^ 

The Bailiff's DauRhlerDddinjrlon, . .Vtiknaan 170J 

King John and the Abbot of Canter- 
bury VntaoKti 1707 

The Friar o( Orders Gray Tlujiaas Peny 1710 

Bonroe George Campbell Viiknmim 1714 

RostbeUe WallrrScoll , 3715 

Alice Brand - Waller Scoll 2716 

Song from "Rokeby" Walter Scoll 1710 

Clenara Thsnas Campbell 2722 

Lord Ullin's Daughter Thomai CampMl T713 

Sir Galahad Al/rrd Tenaynai 1724 

Lady Clare .Alfred Tainyson 3717 

Clcnkindie William Bell Scall 27JO 

■Ho* They Brouittit the Good News 

from Ghent lo Aix'' Raberl Broaning 1732 

The OU Scottish Cavalier WUIiam Edmmilomt Ay- 

The Ballad of Kdth oF RavdEton Sydney Deicil. '.'.'.'.'.['.[]".'. 2736 

TheMblletoe Bouph Thomas II aynet Bayly 2738 

TIm Abbot of Intsfalen WiUiam AUitisiam 2739 

The Cavalier's Escape Waller Thominry 2J4J 

The Three Troopers Waller Thonibary 2743 

The Sally Iroro Coventry Waller Thorabury a74s 

Shamdul Death WiUian U orris 2746 

The Kime of [he Ancient Marfrwr. . .Samuel Taylor Coleridge. . . . 1747 

The Dream of Eugene Aram Thomas Hood 2767 

The Ballad of Heading Gaol Oicar Wilde 277J 

The Ballad of Judas Iscariol. Ki-ierl Baclianait 2791 

HeFrll AmonE Thieves Henry NevMl 2707 

The Last tlunt William Raseoe Thayer 2709 

Andri'aRide A.II.Biesly 2801 

The Ballad o( Father Gilligan WiUiam Bulirr Veals j8oj 

Herv* Kid Robcrl Brauminn 2S04 

The HiRhwayman Aljrei Saves 28og 

LoncekX and Guinevere Cerdd Goaldl 2813 

Ballad of the Goodly Fere Ifsra Pound 281a 

Eve .Ralph Hodgson 3H16 

"Tane, You Old Gipsy Man" Ralph Hodgson 2817 

Chan-son of the Bells of Oseney Cale Voung Itice 281$ 

The Waste Places James Slephcns.. 28i() 

The Warrior Mnid Anna Uttnpsleai Braaih 2821 

TheSongsof Gutbrum and Alfred.... Ci/hTfATdJACAeilrrfgii 2623 

Tlie Pa«eant of Seamen May Byten 2827 

The Ballad of East and West Rudyard KipHng 1830 

The Maid Theodore Saberls J834 


ixviii Table of Contents 


The Noble Nalure BenJoasm j8j6 


SveetaiKl Sour. Edmund Speusfr 1S3J 

On the Life of Man Henry King 2837 

All is Vanity Piilip RossrJer 2838 

Times Go by Turns Robcrl SmUkedl 1938 

"Say not, Ihc Struggle Naught AvaiE- 

eth" Arthur Hugh ClMtik jRj^ 

Kyridle John Payne ia4<> 

"Let Me Enjoy" Thomas Hardy 1841 

Song. " Because the rose must fade". .Pichard Walim Cildrr 2841 

"Where Runs the Rivet" Francis Williain BBurdillan . 1841 

Sclf-Dependence Matthew Arnold 2843 

Hope and Fear Algemim Charles STciiibiirHc, i&u 

On His Blindness John Milton 1S44 

Ozymandias o( Egypt Percy Bysthe Shrttty 1844 

A Turkish Legend Thomas Baiiey Aldriih 284s 

"Even This Shall Pass Away" Thtadore Tiilai J84J 

Sesottris Lloyd Miffin 2847 

Three Sonnets on Oblivion Gfurge Sleriinf 2847 

The Mieic Mirror Henry UiUs Aldn 2849 

Ebb and Plow George Wiiiiam Curtis jSio 

The King of Dreams,. Clinton SttUard 2850 

If Only the Dreams Abide Ctinlon Scallard 2850 

New Dreams for Old Cole Young Rice 185 1 

"Lord of My Heart's Elation" Bliss Carman iBsi 

The Higher Pantheism A Urtd Tennyson 2851 

The White Peace Wiaiam Sharp aSsi 

The Mystic's Prayer Wiaiam Sharp 2814 

The Play James B. Kenyan 2854 

TheWayfifet HHen HmUnglon 28S4 

Bookra Charles Dudley Horner >8s6 

Into the Twilight ...WilHatn Bullcr Veals 2856 

Teals Lizeltc WnedvHirlh Scese j8s7 

Vers la Vie Arthur Upson s8js 

Leaves Sara Teasiale 2815 

Pre-Edstence Paul Hamillon Hayne 2854 

Envoy from "Songs from Vags- 

bondia" Bliss Carman i8s8 

The Petrified Fern Mary BoUes Branch iRso 

The Question Whither George Mcredilh »S6o 

The Good Great Man Samurl Taylor Coleridge i860 

Human Frailty William Cowfer 2861 

Stanzas. "Where forlorn sunsets flare 

and fade" William ErnrsI Henley 1862 

TheSreiters Join Maiefidd 2863 

The Beleaguered Cily Hmry Wadsiearlh Longfiilaw 3863 

A Doubling Heart Adelaide Anne Procter j86j 

Vain Virtues Danir Gabriel Rosselli 2866 

Evolution John Banister Tabb 1866 

Each in His Own Tongue WiUiam lUrbaiCamOh 2B67 

The Name Don Marquis. 2868 

"In God's Eternal Studios" Paul Shirelt 2869 

Indirection Richard KcalJ 2870 


Table of Contents 

A Cnmmaruui's Funeral Robtrl Brvwnittg zSri 

TheRnUiyitofOmarKhiivyini Eduard Filaferald 3875 

TheKaMMah KUKotd Franiis Btulm jSBj 

CiudeuDiK Igitur Jekn Addiagtm Symoitds. U. i8i)5 

LaurJEcr Horalius John Additulon Symends, Ir. iSgli 

T\itCoaiiusaa(Atiit!'Vibiait1SaUa..Fred€Tic RUfdyTBrraut... iSin 

In MemoriaiD Alfred Tennyson aSgK 

Driflwood TnimbuU Slkknry 2906 

"What Ricbu Have You" George Sanlayaaa zgo7 

"0 World" Ctarge Sanlayana mo? 

TIk Rustic at Ibe PUy (Jeerge San/ayaua iqo8 

ToHasekawa. IValler Conrad ArfnOrrK jgoR 

Lire. 1 Question Carinne SoasfTdl KMnstm.. igct 

The Eartb ui(i Man Stepferd AufuslMi Brooke.. . aqoo 

Uexrvings Unknotai iqog 

"A Little Wotb" George du Maitrier 3910 

Man's Days Eden PkOI polls agio 

A Little WUle Don liarqtiis igii 


TntwerVftB Thomas Campim jgii 

Tile Chambimd Nautilus OliKt IPrnddl llolmex . . 2gi,{ 

APulmor UCe llcnry Wadaivrlk Limgfrllmi jgu 

EicdEJor. Iltnry Wadsieorlk Loitgfrikno sgis 

The Village Blacksmith Ilcnry Wadsmorlk Lennlrliea jgifi 

Four Things Ilmry Van Dyie igiS 

Labor and Love lidmaad Gossip jgiS 

What is Good Jekn Boyle O'Kritlv 1018 

Failh Franca An<K Krmhit sgco 

A Charge I itrbert Trench jgig 

Tfrday Thomns Carlyle 2gio 

"My Days Among the Dead are 

pBKcit" Robert Southty agjo 

Opportunity Jekn James Ingalls igii 

Opportunity tValler MaJane jgii 

Opportunity FJ^ard Rmdund SiU. jgH 

The Arrow andtbe Sonf-. . , //niry Wadsworik LengfeUoiB sgi.i 

Calumny Frances Sareriil Osgood igi* 

The Eflect of Eiamiile Jokn Krble iqh 

Ijllleand Great Chafes Mactay igij 

The Sin of Omis»on MargarrI Sangster 1526 

The Flower Alfred Tennyson mn 

lianas F.mily Brmli agiS 

Knfitude una Wkeder WScax igro 

Recompense Ninon Watemum >n2(> 

TheLi^n oE the Water-mill Sarah Daudney agia 

Life George llerberl agji 

BeTnse Iloralint Bonar 3<>32 

TiFday l.ydia Arery Coonley Ward., aw J 

The VaOcy of VaJn Verses //mry fan Dykr w.w 

A ThankscivinfT Willtam Dean BmorUs iqjj 

TbcLaiiy Poverty Alice Ueyntll lat-t 

The Lady Poverty Jacob Fiscker !0J4 

dnracterof the HapTO" Warrior WiUiam Wordsworlk lOjS 

The Great Adventure Henry Datid Tkoreau 2gjT 

"He Wbom a Dr«am Haifa Possessed "Shaemas Shed ig.iS 

Uastery Sara Tcasdole 2g.i8 

A Prayer Harry Kemp igjg 

Prayer Lauii Unlermryfr 2940 

Prayer for Pain John G. Neihardt 2940 

Carry On! Robert W . Street 1941 


Table of Contents 

The Fightinfc Failure Evcrard Jacit ApfUltn IQ41 

The Prayer o( Beaten Men WUliiim Hervty Wmids 11944 

The Last Word if alikew Arnold vm 

la Victis Wmiam Welmon Sitry »94S 

"They Went Forth to Bitlle but 

They Always Fell" Shmmas SIkH IQ46 

The Masters :Laurcnce Unfit igtj 

The Kings Leuiie Imagtn CuiHey igw 

Failures Arthur UpsBH wso 

Don Quixote Auslin Debson 1950 

A Prayer Jakii DriHiaalcr igsi 

Battle Cry JohnG. Ncihardl sbsj 

RabLa Ja/nri Frrman Clarit i9Si 

The Joyful Wisdom CevenCry Palmore ic>sj 

Ode to Duty William Wordsavrlh IMS 

Chant Royal of High Virtue A.T. Quilltr-Cimck >os7 

The Splendid Spur A. T. Quillcr-Coluk J9SO 

Sacrifice. Kaiph Waldo Emersim 3559 


Conscience Uenry Dnid Tkormu 1560 

My Prayer Henry Dand Thartau agfii 

Induration Henry DasU Tlmrrau io6[ 

Each and All ...Ralph Waldo Emersaa ig6i 

Brahma Ralfk Wildo Eneriai 3064 

Bacchus Ralph W aldo EmersOH !g54 

The Problem Ralph Waldo Emerson !g6fi 

Evening Hymn William Hmry Eunuts ag68 

The Higher Good Theodore Farkrr jq6o 

The Idler Janei Very 

Questionings Frederic Henry Hedge 

The Great Voices. Charla Timolky Brooks. 

Beauty and Duty EliesHaoptr 

The Sttaieht Road Ellen Hooper 

The Way Sydney Henry Mont 

Inspiration Satnucl Johnson 

r in Thee, and Tbou in Me Christopher Pearic Craneh.. . 

(inosis Christopher Prarse Cramh... 

The Future Edvard Rowland Sill .. 

Lovers Lord. .Edirard Dowden 3Q77 


Folly" Robetl Greene 1970 

'llie Means to Attain Happy Lite Henry Homird 3979 

Kisinata Vnimrjm 2980 

A Contented Mind Joshua Sytvesler 1980 

The Happy Heart Thomas Dckter 1981 

The Miller of the Dee. Charles .Harkay iqHj 

A Philosopher John Kmdriih Bangs... .... 3g8j 

The Good Day Henry HoK-arlk Bashfard... . agSj 

"I Saw the Clouds" Henxy While 1984 

Coronatioii //rfrn Hunt Jackson 198s 

The Character of a Happy Lite Henry Walton 1986 

"My Mind to Me a Kincdom Is". . .Edmird Oyer igS? 

Written at an Inn at Henley William Shcnsione igS* 

Careless Content, John Byrom . 3989 

The Golden Mean .William Couper aggi 

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"It's Ain Dtapo' Dew" Jama BailantiiH logi 

R«i|!natioci Waller Sotase Lander a^QJ 

"En Vtyyaee" Coreliiu Alvaltr Mason. . . . i^j 

Tbe Happiest Hesrt Jalia Vame Chnuy 1094 

Good-bye Ralph Waldo EmrrsoH !V)S 

Sapicntia Lunic Enieit Dmnun ipg5 

The Beatia Wall WliilmiHi 3096 

Immoral James Oppaihtitii igQ7 

Di'ofcenes itax Eashtmn 3007 

IiCBurc H'ffliaw //. 'Datiri joqS 

PoorKinss .,, WiUiain H . Davits. 3goS 


Ralve Tkomat Edvard Brevm iqqo 

Abou Ben Adhem Ltigh llurU 1900 

~ Envoy from "Men Songs fiom 

Va^abondia " RUkard Hatcy 3000 

Friends Edvard VtrraU Lueas 3000 

A Friend Lietid Joknioa 3001 

Rill and Joe ObW Waiddi Hiima jooi 

■As Toibome I Wandered Virginia's 

Woods" Widl Wbilman 3004 

Gone Uary E. Ceieridge 300s 

CoDimdes Gterp Ei-ward Woodifrry,. . 3005 

Comrades Liitrid JchnsBR 3006 

Comrades Laurence Hausmait 3008 

Al the Crossroads Richard Hmey jooo 

TwiKffht Soni; EdwiK Arti»sU>n RebinsoH . . joi i 

The Adventurem May Byran 3012 

"Kamc is a Food thnt Dead Men 

Eat" Austin Dobstm. .,,,.. 3013 

Jaiar LritkBunt 3013 

Counsel Mary Etrlyn Meorc Davit... 3014 

To a Friend. Hartley Celeridge. -, 301S 

"Farewcl!, hut Whenever" Tliomat iloore 301s 

"Awalte, Awake" Joka Rtiskin 3016 

The Voice of Toir Wmiam Morris 3017 

Tom Dunstan Rabrrl BuchaitaK 301S 

The Common Street Udm Cray Cone yat 

To a New York Shop-GiH Dressed tor 

Sunday Anna nrmpilead Branch.. . . joai 

Saturday Nirtt James Opptnheim 3024 

Tbe Barrel-Orsan Alfred N ayes 3025 

Amanlium Irac -,...- .Richard Hdwards 3031 

Oua Cunmrn Ventus Arthur IlHih (lnurh 3033 

"For a' Thai and a' That" R>^rl Bvmf. ,}OJ4 

"WcarcBrelhrena"' Roberl Nicolt .3o,tS 

Fraternity John Banistfr TaM ,joj6 

Sonnet Henry Timrod 3036 

Siellur Arthur /lugh ClouRh 3037 

Verses U'UUam Cmel-er 3038 

" Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind "... Wiliiam Shahesptan ,5035 

TheHouscbytheRhJcoFlhcRoad. ...Vain H'ailrm'/'afi 3040 

The Man with the Hoc Edwin Martham 3041 

TheManvriththeHoc, aReply John Vanct Chatty 30.IJ 

The SineinK Man Jo.'^ephine Pretim Pcabody. . 304S 

"Scum o' the Earth" Robrrl Itaven Srhattffer 3053 

The Second Coming Narman Gaie 3054 

The Ni^ht Court RaH Comforl M itekell . . . . 30$$ 

The Factories Margarel Widdrmtr 3057 

Black Sfa«ep Riihard Burlou 3058 

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The Dream-BeuET 

Sunday BveninR in tlie Conunon . 

Caliban in the Coal Mines Louts uniermiyei.. .5059 ■ 

Landscapes .Louis Uttltmeyer 3060 

Slupidily Sireel Ralph Hod/^sm ■, . 3061 

A Troop of tiie Guard lltmvmn Ilagcdem jofi; 

Tlie fiod-makcr. Man Don Marquis 30(15 

The Field oF Glory Edvin Arlintlm Robinsm . . iobj 

The Conquerors Harry Kemp jo68 

The Anienal at Sprinefielil flenry Wadstearlk LoHg/cUme jo6g 

The Little Sister of the Prophet ilarjorie L. C. PieklkUl 3071 

The Sons of Martha Rudyard Kipling 3072 

The Tuf t of Floweis RiAtrl ProsI 3074 

Mending Wall Robrrl Pros! 307s 

Forbearance Ralph H'lilda F-mmim 3076 


Israfel Edgar Allm Poe 3077 

Proem JohnGrtenltafWhiaiet. jojS 

Embryo Mary Ashley Yaivnseiid 307g 

The Singer's Prelude William MarTis 3080 

A Prelude Maurice Thompson 3081 

On First looking into Chapman's 

Homer John Kcals 3081 

The Odyssey Andrra> Lang 3083 

Homeric Unity A ndrew Lang 3083 

"Enamored Architect of Airj' 

Rhyme" Thomas Bailey Aldrich 3083 

Divina Commedia Henry Wadsawlh Langfelloa 308.) 

"A Man Caliefl Dante, I llavo 

Heard" Georgiana Coddard King.. . , 3084 

The Songs I Sing Charles G. Blanden 3085 

The Dearest Poels I.Ath Uanl 3085 

False Poels and True Thomas Hood 3085 

A Singing Lesson Algernon Charles STHniuriK. 30K& 

Poetry Ella Healh 10S& 

The Inner Vision ttilliam Wordsscorlh 30S7 

On an Old Song William Ed-,card Uarlpale 

Laky 3087 

To Song Thomas S. Jonet, Jr 308S 

Verse — "Pait ruined Ilion" Waller Sarage Landar 3081) 

An Old-Fashioned Poet Ada Foster Murray 308.1 

Poet and Ijirk Mary Ainge De Vere 3080 

A Hint from Henidi Thomas Bailey- Aldrich jogo 

To the PoBla. John Reals 30110 

The Progress of Poesy Thomas Cray 301J1 

Seaireed Henry Wadsivorlh Limejrllaa' 309.1 

To the Muaes. William Blake .loyft 

"Whither is rrt>ne the Wisdom and 

the Power" HarHey Coleridge 3096 

The Muses FMk ilalilda Thomas 3007 

Evoe! Edilk Malilda Thomas 3098 

An Invocation WUliam Joknson-Cary 30W 

Invention William Walson 3100 

Joy of the Morning Edwin Markham 3100 

Cricket Clinlon SioUard 3101 

To a Poet aTbousand Years Hence. . James EIroy Fleeter 3101 

ilie Moods Fannie Sleams Davis 310a 

The Pasiionate Reader to His Poet .. Riekard Lr Gallienne 310J 

The Flight of the Goddess Thomas Bailey Aldrich 3103 

The Sovereigns Uoyd Mifflin 31OS 

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Table of Contents 

The Argument of H[s boot Raberl Htrrick J105 

Envoy Rstai Louii Sinmsvn 3106 

Envoy Francis THirmfism jio6 

The Sonnet's Voice TMeadiire WaUi-DuHlm 3106 

The Sonnet DaiUe Gabrid Riaselli 3107 

The Sonnet Rkkard Watson Ciidtr 3107 

The Sonnet Jelm Addinglm Symaidi . . . 3"* 

"Scorn not the Sonnet" WUliam WordsjeorlA 3109 

Vendor's Song Aidaidt Cra/iicy 3iop 

Thunderstorms WiUiam II. Dories 3110 

Genius Lod Margara Woods 3110 

The Rondeau. Aitstiit Dobstn. , . , . . 31x1 

Meltical Feet Samufl Tayler Celetidce 311' 

Accident in Art Richard llmcy 311a 

ASonKlorSt. CedhVsDay Joint Drydcn ,3111 

Aleiandei's Feast Jokn DrydcK 3114 

The Passions WiUiam Collins 31 ig 

To Music to Becalm iifa Fcvrr Jtaberl IJetrifk 3113 

A Musical Inslrumeat I-Jiiabtlh Barrett Uramtiiig., 3114 

At a Solemn Music Joht Uitlon 3113 

With > Guitar, to Jane Percy ByisheSkdUy 3136 

Ode — "We are tbe rousc-maltcrs". . .Atmar O'Shaufkiicssy. ., ... 3118 

Mimic. l-':dilh UalUda ThoKuu 3130 

On Music Wailtr Sacane Landar 3 131 

Music at Twiligiit Cenrft Slerliitg 3131 

The Key-Board WiUiam Wabim 313a 

ATocaltaorCaluppi'ii Reterl Broumiiif 31.13 

-Aht Vogter Roierl Breiening. 3 1 ,15 

Hack and Hew liliss Carman - . . , . .3130 

Ars Vidm AmUh Dobson 3140 


Fancies John Ford 3141 

Tom 0' Bedbtn UttinowH 314a 

L' Allegro Join UUlm 3143 

II Penjeroso John MUhm 3147 

Kiimeny Jaina Hogg JiSt 

Kubia Khan Samuel Taylor Celrndge 3160 

Hymn o€ Pan. J'ercy Uysske Shdlry Ji6j 

Ode on a GiTCian Urn John Keats 3163 

Ode to Pg^he ^0*11 Ktals 3 164 

To Fancy John Ktali ji66 

The Haunted Parace f-Jtar Allan Pot 31O8 

Tbf Raven lidgar Allan Poe 3170 

The Bdl5 Iid>:ar Allan Poc. 3174 

Tbe Lotos-Eater? Allrrd TatnyiiiH.. 3778 

ITyases Alfrfd Tennyion 317c) 

Mofte D'Arthur Alfred Ttmyjim 31 Si 

The Lady of Shalolt Alfred Tnmyson 318S 

Song from "Paracebus" Robert Bnnmint. 3191 

The Swimmers George Slerling 3194 

The Blessed Damowl Danle GabrirS Rositlli 3iy8 

A Sonn of Angiola in Heaven. Austin Dobson 3101 

The Hound of Heaven Francis Thempson 3104 

Wilil Eden ficflrw Edwa/d Woodberry. . . 3100 

The ,\itec City litigme Filch Wan. 3211 

Before a Statue of Achilles (leotge .Samayana 3111 

"IFInnRmeHoundHim". ...RodenNod im 

Thepueen's Song. James Elroy Flaker 3J14 

Baiki! Lascdhi Aiercrtmbie iits 

The Gales of Dreamland George WilliaM Russell 3116 

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Edith William EiUry Cktmaimg. . . an 

Tcnanlf Wilfrid WUim CibioB. .... 3'"8 

The ListeQEfs Waller dt la Hart 3210 


Sleep /o*" Flflehet 3130 

"Sleep, Silence' Child" WHIiam DrunnnoiiJ jaio 

To Sleep William Wordswrlh 3321 

Viii t/«iM0i™ 3121 

Sleep Jida Louiii Hariin 3111 

The Quiet Nishts, , , Kalkarint Tynan 3131 

The Night ««<""" SHIik 3"i 

O Sleep Grate Fallaa NorlOH 3J14 

The Whvf ol Dreams Edwin Uarklnm 32*4 


"Hame, Hame. Hame" Allan Ctmnisgliam. i7i6 

Home, Switt Home. John llmtard Faynt 3116 

My OW Konlurky Home. SItpken CoUins Poller 3127 

Old Folks at Uome , .Sicpkcn Collita Foslrr imS 

Home lH'Uliam Emal llmlty 3i2g 

Hot Weather in the Plains— India TipfU. 3'30 

Heart's Content. Unknmm 3231 

Song — " Stay, stay at home, my heart 

and rest" Henry Wadsmvlh Lengfrllirw 313! 

My Eariy Home Jakn Clare 3233 

The Old Home Madisan Cawem 3133 

The Auld House CaraHna Nairnt 3234 

The Rowan Tree, Cardina Naimc 3136 

The Fire of nriftwooil Henry WadoBorlh Loiicfcllmp 3236 

My Ain Fireside Eli^akrlk IJamitlnn 3238 

The Ingle-Side //no Aimlet 3330 

The Cane-bottomed Chair, Williani UatrprMC Thaik- 

"ny 3230 

Duna Mfarjorif L. C. Ficilkall ... 3241 

The Old Clock on the SUirs Henry Wad.'niiorlh LmsftllmB 3242 

"Molher, Home, Heaven" WilliantGoldsmilk Brinai.. . 3244 

The Hero Ribirl Nicall 3244 

The Colter's Salunlny Night Raterl Biant. 3246 

On the Reci-ipt of My Motlwr's Pic- 
lure. Wittiam Conper 3251 

The Crowing of the Red Cork Emma Latatut 3151 

The World's Justice F.,nma Laiarm 3:55 

Dover Cliffs Wiliitim Lide Bmeles 3257 

ThcBri.lse Frtdrrick Pelersen 3257 

The Eiile's Song Kobcrl CUfillan 3258 

"The Sun Rises Bright in l''rancf". , .Allan Cunninikam 3130 

Father Land and Molher Tongue, . . .Samuel Lotrr 3!sg 

The Fatherland Jama Rvsell Lmtfll sifio 

The Call to a Scot Rulk Gulhrit Harding 3161 


The Deserted Village (Hiifr Coldsinilh 3163 

The Prisoner of Chillon Graree Gordon Byron 3173 

The Eve of St. Agnes John Reals 3284 

Locksley Hall A'fred Tennyson 330S 

The Scholar-Gipsy, MallheK Ameld.. 3305 

Juggling Jcny Cearse Meredith 3313 


Table of Contents 

A Court I^y Elitabelh Barrtll Brmtmhtt. . ais 

Tbe HiKh TJile on the Coast ol Lin- 
colnshire Jran iHgdva jjiB 

TheSliclelon in Armor Hairy WadnnBrlk LoHifeUiia 33 Jj 

Daniel Gray. Jesiak Cilbtrl HoOand. 3317 

"Curfew Muit not Ring To-nighL"...«o«i;ar(wiei TliarPc 3JJ0 

The Old Sergeant Byrm FBrrcylit WOhim. . . , 3331 

JimBludwof IhePnOrieBell,. J aim Hay 3337 

Link BrcecHcs Jolm Hay 33jg 

The Vagabonds Join Tmnuend TroiBbridtf.. jj4o 

Mow We Beat tbe Favorite Adam LindMy Cordai 3344 


"Death be not Proud" John Dmme, 3348 


Mehocbot; Jolm FIttcker jj49 

On Helancholy Johi Ktals 3340 

The Rainy Day Hinry Wadsaerlk Lmtjdlaai 3350 

The Precept of Klencc LiontlJolmsm 33Si 

"Moaa, Moan, Ye Dying Gales" Henry Kerle. 33Si 

Sarrow Auirty Tkomas Dt Vtrt 33SI 

Time and Grief WiOiani hide Bmda 33SJ 

Grief Elisaitlh Barren Brmning. . 3353 

Pain Si. Jekn Lucas 3353 

A Fuewell A(fred Tennyim 3354 

"Tbe Day is Done" Henry WadsKorlh Lcng/rllmii i3SS 

The Bridge Henry WadjMirlh Len^cllaa 3336 

"My Life is Like the Summer Rose". Rkkard Henry WUde. 3358 

"As! L^e A-Tbynkynge" Richard Harris Barkam 335^ 

The Harp of Sofiow Elkd Clifford 3360 

Tbe Journey Oowacds. Thomas Moart 3360 

Song,"! tiy lo knead and »pin" Louise Imeien Gtiiney 3361 

My Sorrow Senmas O'SuUiam 3361 

Spirit of Sadness Ritlard Lr CaUieniit 3361 

"1^ But a UltieFaded Flower" Ellen Clemmline Birmir/k.. . 3363 

To Each His Own Margarel Jloet Caniii 3363 

Song. "Rarely, rarely ajmestlhou". .Percy Ifysske ShfUty jj&4 

The Nameless One James ClarBue liastaa 336s 

"DeHortuisNilNiaiBonuin" Rkkari Realf 3J&? 

Hope and Despair Lascdlcs Abercrombie 3368 

Dejection: An Ode Samuel Taylor Coleridge. . . . 3j6g 

Work without Hope Samad Taylor Cvletidge ... . 3373 

Care. Virginia Woodtaird Cloud.. . 3373 

At the Salon Flereaa Wilkinson Et«ni.. . 3373 

The Wind's Way Grart Hatatd ConUini 3374 

Tropical Town SaltmSn dt la Seha 3374 

SuoKt Wings Danle Cabrid Rosselli 3375 

Morality ^..lHallkm} Arnold 3376 

Cui Bono Tkomas Carl:^ 3377 

MutaUlity Percy Bysshe Skdley 33J7 

A Fancy from Fontenelle. AusliH Dobson 3378 

"Oh. Eariier Shall Ibe Rosebuds 

Bbw" ft'Uliam Jekntm-Cary 3378 

HieDove Joka Kiati 3370 

The Wbispereis WMfrid WiUm GOaan 3379 


Table of Contents 

.. 3380 
-, 3381 

Endurance Elitabtfk Aktrs 3381 

LarRl^ I^ne Rattrl ButkoHan 3383 

The Weakest ThinR Elitabelk BarrtU BrwiUufi ■ . 338S 

Song— "Weonly ask focsunshine".. .Helen Hav WMInry 3386 

The House of Pain Florrncf Earlt Cealrs 3386 

Wii« Lice'le Wooditorlkfifrse 3387 

•■Multum Dilexil" llarlUy Coleridxt 3387 

Pierctle in Memory WUIhm Criffilk 3388 

"Wind me a Summer Crown" Mmella Bute Smedley 3388 

To the Harpies, Arlkur Dansen Fiike 3j8g 

The Bridge of Sigh* Themas Hood 3300 

The 5tonfl of the Shirt Tkamat Hood 3393 

Stan«i3, "In n drear-niBhted De- 
cember". Jokn Kealt 330s 

The Dead Failh Fannie Heaslip Lra 3306 

The Ballad of The Boat RUIuird Ganrtl 33(»6 

Eldorado Edgar Allan Par 3307 

A Lost Chord Adtlaide AtiHt Freeler 3398 

LiltleGray SongsIromSt. JOBeph'»..&o«/'jtf«rA'w/oi» 33» 

Birlhritiht JokH Driiikwalcr. 3401 

Immortalin Darid Uorron 3401 

Sonnets Jokn Uasrfitld 3401 

Vitie Summa Brevi? Spem No? Vctat 

Incnharc Longam Fjmst DoKsm 3404 

Death's Final Conquest James Skirley 3404 

Death's Kubde Ways James Shirley 3405 

Man's Mortality Simon WaileU 3405 

To Death Auae FiHck 3407 

The Genius of Death CeorgtCraly 3408 

"Oh, Why Should the Spirft of Mor- 
tal be PriHid" William Knox 3401) 

The Hour of Death Felicia Dorolkea Hemans 3411 

The Sleep FJisabelh Barrel! BrovmiHg . . 341J 

Attad Heberl GUberl Wibk 3414 

"Where Lies the Und" Ankur tluik Cloufk 3414 

Up-hill Ckriitina Ceertina Rastelli. . 3413 

"The Bourne Ckriilina Ceorgirut Kosietli.. 3415 

The Conqueror Wonn FJfar Allan Poe 3416 

The City in the Sea Edtv AUan Pot 3417 

The Reaper and the Flowers Henry Wadiworlh LmsfeUnw 3418 

The Closing Scene Tkffmas Buckanan Sead 3419 

Mors el Vita., , Samuel H'addinglon 3421 

"What is lo Come", William Emeil Henley 3431 

A Roundel ol Rest Arlkur Symatu 3413 

"When the Most iaSaid" Mary Ainte dt Vert , 3423 

The Garden of Proserpine Algem«n Cliarlei Smnturnt. 3414 

The Chanftinn Road Kalkcrine Im Bales 3437 

The Great Miagivjin! William Walsen 3418 

Hie Dead Coach Kalkarine Tynan 3410 

t'Envd. . Willa Sibtrl Calktr. 3415 

Death Flarenct Fjule Coalts 3430 

A Dirge Jokn Webslrr 3430 

Diige from '■CymWine" W illiam Skakcifeare 3431 

Dine in Cymbcline WiOiam Collins 34jt 

Hallowed Ground Thamas Campbell 3431 

The Churchyard Robert Buckanan . 3435 

TheOldChurcbyardof Bonchurch. ..i'Mi>£ei(rjte Uarsion, 3436 

p.: hy Google 

Table of Contents 

TheladnD Burying-giouBd Pliilip Freneau 3438 

God'a-Acre Henry WoihiBarlk LimttiUoa 3439 

The City of the Dead Riekard Bartim 3440 

TheGanlen that I Lore Flortnce L. Bendtrsvn 3441 

TleOldSexlon. Ptrh BaijamiH 344' 

The Two Villages Kas* Ttrry Coakt 344a 

Daybreik HiHry Wadneerlk Im/JtUwit 3443 

Th^oBtopiis WHtiam Cvliai Brynnl 3444 

The Dance of Death.. AusHa Dutian 3446 


The Lie Walter RtUigh 3440 

Hii Pilnrinuee WaUer Rtdrigh 3451 

The CoDduiiion. WaSler Raliitk 34S3 

Deal h's SunuDons Thomas Naslii 3453 

Hii WiRding-Sheet Raitrl Herrick 3454 

A Prayer in the Prospect of Deiilh...«o*<r( fliinu 34SS 

Song of tbe Silent Land Henry Wadsverlk LoHg/tUim 3451^ 

Kie. WtOiam Ciiitm BryoMl 3457 
ve, Hme, and Death Fredtrick Latkir-Lampitm . . 345H 

A Wbh UaltkeiP AmM 34S9 

Neirt of Kin Ckristiiia Grorgiiia RestrHi. , 3460 

A Better Resurrection Ckritlma Cea^ina RossnH.. 3461 

The Summer b Ended ChriitinaGetrgitt* Rmetli.. 346a 

A Little Parable Anne Rent Afdriek 3461 

My Cross ZUdlaCcckt 34*3 

In tbe Hospital Mary Woelirj Ilniand. . . . 3463 

When Sarah Chmmtty Waettey.. . . 3464 

"Ei Libri«" Arlhur UpiM 3466 

In EitremiB Gtartt Slerlmi 3466 

inning HeUn HunlJacbson 3467 

"SomeTipteal Eve" Listie Clark Hardy 346S 

Night. T.W.Raltestim. 3460 

Afterwards VielttFaM 3460 

A nundted Years to Come WiUiamGalSsinilk Brtun. . 3470 

The Last Camp-fire Sharlm if. Hatt 3471 

InleHude Etta Wheeler Wilcox 3472 

The One Hope. Danli GaMel RotstUi 3473 

Tbe Ijmpin the West EJia Hig^nsen 3473 

The Dying Rescrvint UaurUe Baring 3474 

"If Love verejestetat theCourtof 

Death" Frederic Latrrence Kntlfla, . 3474 

Constann UiiHir Walien 3473 

The Wild Ride Louise Imogen Guiney 3475 

"IWoaldnotLivcAlway" Wmiam Auguihis H«hlen- 

Traveller's Hope Charhs Groi^e. Mli 

Scaled Orders Richard Burial 3478 

Soni, "I makemy ihroud" Adtlaide Crafiry 347S 

A Song of Living Amelia J axphine Burr 3475 

Compensatioo Paul Lavrmec Duniar 3479 

The RenssionBl Ckgrla G. D. Raderls. 3480 

Moantain Song Harriet Monroe 3481 

To M. E. W GiliM Keith Cheskrten 34S1 

Returning Ruth Gulhrit Harding 348a 

"OWorld, benotSoFair" Grate Paltm Norm 34S3 



Table of Contents 

"OhMayl JainlheChatrInv]iilile".&<»x< £UM 3485 

Last Unes. Emily Brmic 3486 

LausMtntk. Ftcderic Laaraia KnawUt. . 3487 

"Wben I Have Feats" JohH Ktait j<88 

Last Sonnet JekaKeals i48g 

The Dying Christian to His Soul. . , Maaaia Pott 3480 

"Berood tbe Smiling and the Weep- 
ing" Boralius Bmtor i^qo 

"I Strove willi None" Walirr Savage Landot 3401 

Death Watttr Savagt Landor 3451 

Life Ataus Ulitia BarhatM. 3401 

Dying Hymn Alia Cory, 34Q3 

In Harbor PaulllaBiillm Ilaytu 3403 

The Last Invoration. Walt Wkilnan 3454 

"Direst Thou Now, O Soul" Wall Whilmait 3404 

Woitinn Joka Burrncks 34gs 

In the Dark George AmeU 34g6 

Last Verses. Wiliiajn MtUurweU 3496 

The Rubicon WiOiam tinier 3407 

WhenI Have Gone Weird Ways Jckn G. NeikanU 3408 

A Rlwme o( Life CliarUi Warren SlodJari.. . . 3400 

"Thaktta! Thalallu" Joseph Braumin Brmm 3490 

Re<fuieDi F. Norreys ConnrU 3500 

Invictus. William EmtsI HciiJey 3500 

"A Lat« L»ik TwitlccB from the 

Quiet Skies" WUtiam Ernest Bcnley 3301 

"In After Days" Austin Dobioit 3SOJ 

"Call Me Not Dead" Richard WalsonCiUtr 3502 

EiMlogue Irtan "Asulando" Ratert BrotBiting 3StJ3 

Crossing the Bar Alfred Tennyson 3504 

L'Envoi Radyerd Kiplinc 3504 

Envoi John G. Nrihardi 3505 

Greek Folk Song Uargard Widdaner 3306 

"When I am Dead and Sislci to the 

Dust" Elsa Barker 3306 

A Parting Guest Jama Wkiicomb Riley. 3507 

The Stirrup Cup John Hay 3507 


Friends Dnarteil Utnry Vaughan 3508 

"Over theKivcr" Naney Woodbury Priest.. . . . 3Sog 

Resignation. Henry Wiidsaorlh Longfellow 3S'o 

Afterward EiisAelh Slaart Phelps Ward 351a 

Sometime May Riley Smilk 3513 

"The Mourners Came at Break of 
Day" Sarah Flower Adams 

What of The Darkness? Richard le CaUietme 

A Sea Dirge William Shatctfeare 

Epitaphs Ben Jonsan 

Song from "The Devil's Law Quic " . . John Wtbsler 

On the Tombs in Westminster Francis Beaumont 

Epitaph on the Connlesa Downger of 

PembrtAe William Braame 

An EiHtaph Intended for Himself. . . .James Bealtie 

Lycidas /"*» MiUon , 

To the Pious Memory of the Accom- 
rJished Young Lady, Mrs. Anne 

Killigrew John Drydtn 3S14 

Heraclilus William Jokmon-Cory 3519 

Elegy to the Memory of an Unfor- 
tunate Lsdy Alexander Pape. jS3o 

p:hy Google 

Table of Contents 

Efegy Written in a Counhy Churcb- 

yan) Thomas Cray .1S3i 

The Settlers Laurence II ouiman 3536 

"He Bringetb Tbern Unto Tbdr De- 
sired Haven" L. Frank Tookn 3S37 

In tbe Lilac-rain Eiilk lialUda Thtmas 3539 

ADnwt Marcb Cesmo MonkliBuse 3540 

Tommy's Dead .' Sfdney DebtU 3541 

In Memoriani ;, Richard Moncklen Uiiius... 354; 

Her Ep'taph Themai William Farseni, . . 3S4S 

TheEteilh Bed ^ Tktmai Heed 3546 

Hester.. Charlti Lamb 3S47 

"Softly Woo Away Her Breilh". ,. .flryiw Waller Procter 3548 

A Deatb-Bed _ Jamn Aldrich 3548 

"SheniedinBeiuty" Charlts Doyne SiUery. 3348 

"The White Jeaumine John Baniiltr Tabb 3549 

Early Death HarlUy Colrridfe 3350 

The MosE-Kose Uenry NeoMt 3S5o 

" " Jamil Thamim 3551 

Fdii.ia Dorothea tiemant 3551 

Uarjarie L. C. PidOhaU. . . . SSS' 

Willtr Bynner 3SS3 

BarryKemp 3353 

CtinloH Scellard 3SS3 

Frederick Locker-Lampion . . 3354 

Elitabak Barrclt Brmviins., 3555 

MarjoruL.C.PicklhaU.... 3558 

Elhtl Clifferd 3SS0 

Jine BarUnv 3360 

Charles G. Blanden 3560 

. Allan CunniHiiam 3561 

^ .Fdida Dorothea Uemans., . , 356( 

- ■ - . 356i 

- 3SH 

. , . ^ . n uiiam tr oranoona , 3566 

Barlholonae Doaliui 3566 

Danle Gabriei Russetli 3368 

H'iUian Barnes jsSg 

Mary Uapes Dodec 3570 

Forever JeliH BoyU O'RciUv 3371 

Now and Afterwartls. Dinah Maria HulakCraii. 337* 

■■Now the Laborer's Task isO'er".. . .Jolm Ledge Eiltrlan 3373 

Love and Death Margaret Deland 3574 

Van Elsen Fredrrick Gtwii ScoU 3374 

TheniBht Uoyd Uiffin 3373 

Ripe Grain Dora Kred Gooddlc 3573 

■TTic I^nd Which No One 

Knows" Ebeneier EUiaU 3376 

The Hills of Rest Albtrl Bigdoa Paine 3577 

At the Top of the Road Charles Buxton C»ing 3377 

Shemuel. Edward Baara 35j8 

She and He _. Rdteiii Arnold 3375 

After Death in Arabia Edain Arnold 33S1 

To the Eart of Warwick, on (he 

Death of Mr. Addison Thomas Tiehdl 3384 

The Eagle that is Forgotten Vachil Lindsay 3S87 

Elw.ic Stanzas William Wordsworth 3S87 

Ullliam Blate James Thomson 3SSg 

Edwin Booth Alice Brmva 3Sgo 


Table of Contents 

Crnerol William Booth Enters Into 

Heaven Vachtl Lindsay jsoj 

E. B. B. Jama TkomiBn ,1504 

Robert Bums William Alexandir 3545 

On a Hy-lpaf o( Burns's Songi Frtdirii Lamtnti Knaalfs. . 3S96 

On the Dealhs of Thotnas Carlyle and 

Geonte Eliot AlgrrnaH Ckarlrt Swinhitntt. 350* 

At the Grave tJ Champemowne Jahn Albre 3597 

The Opening of the Tomb of tharle- 

magne Autrey dt Vrre. 3507 

By the Statue of King Charlet at 

Charing Cross Lienrl Jtlmsim 3SoS 

Chavez MUdred UcNeal Swtmey. . . 3fioo 

Coleridfte Tkeedore Waia-OwKbrn a*"! 

Cowper'9 Grave EiitabelH BamU Braufiiui . . ^Ooi 

On a Bust or Dnnle Thonai William Parians. . . 3604 

Dickens in Camp Bret 11 arte 3606 

Drake's Drum Hairy Nn^olt 3007 

On the Death of Joseph Rodman 

Drake Filt-Crrtnt tialleck 360S 

"Oh, Breathe Not His Name" Tlumas Uoort 3iSo« 

Vanquished Fronds Fiilitr Braume jliog 

O.Henry VacM Lindsay. 3610 

Adooais Ptrcy Byssht SkeUey 361 j 

To the Sister of Elia Wi^tr Sasate Landar 3615 

In Memotyol Walter Savage Landor.j4/ffnii>n Charles Smnbume. 3O16 

On the Death o( Mr. Robert Uvet, . .SamiH JohnioH,. .: 3O18 

'■O Captain? My Captain" Wall H'kilmaK st>iQ 

"When Lilacs Last in the Docoyard 

Bloomed" Wall Whitman 3630 

Lincoln, the Man of the People Edwin Markham 36^0 

The Master Ednrin ArlintlaH Sabiitsaii. . 3040 

On the Life-Mask of Abraham Lin- 
coln Richard Walsen GiUtr. 3641 

Abraham Lincoln Tom Taylor J&41 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow AhsUti Dobson 3045 

Mary Queen of Scots C. Tertnysen-Tiiriitr 3O46 

The Angelus Florence Earlt Coales 3*146 

Under The Portrait of ^[ilIon John Drydrn 3*147 

In Memory of ■'Barry Cornwall".. . .AlgtnuM Charles S-winhurnr. 3<)47 

In Memoriam .F^win Arnold 3'i48 

To the Memory of My Beloved Mas- 
ter William Shake^>eare Bf» Jtnsoa 3f)so 

On the Portrait of Shakespeare. Brn Jensen 3(151 

To Shakespeare Hartley Caleridfe 3^5' 

Shakespeare .UallheiB Arnold S&SJ 

An Epitaph on the Ailmirable 

Dramatic Poet. W.. Shakespeare.,.. yo*«W*«i 3651 

To William Sharp Clinton Scellard 3O54 

An Ode on the UnveilinR of the Shaw 

Memorial Thomas Bailey Aldrick 3655 

Memorabilia Roberl Brovnmn 3637 

Robert Louis Stevenson Liulle Woodieorlh Reese .... j6s7 

Bayard Taytor John Greenleaf Whillier. 3653 

Lacrims Musarum William Watson 365^1 

Tennyson Thomas Henry HuxUy jtiGi 

For a Copy of Theocritus. Auilin Dobsen. . , 3664 

Theocritus Oscar Wilde 3664 

The Quiet SinRer Charles Hanson Towna 3665 

Thoreau's Flute Louisa May Akaa 3667 

Ave Atque Vale Thomas S. Jems. Jr. 3668 

The Warden of tlie Cinque Ports. . . .Henry Wadswrtk Loni/dlmB 3670 


Table of Contents 

Tilt Sew Jemsalem. . 

Ode oo Ihe Death of the Dake at 

WdliiMrtim , Alfred Tcnayinn 3672 

Memorial Verses. . MaUkem Arnold 3680 

Wordsworth's Crave WOliam Watson 3681 


.... Jekn ilasoti Neali. 3680 

Unknoam 3603 

Henry Vaushan 36g5 

Paradise Frederick William P^>er jftgs 

The World Umry Vavgkan 3696 

Tbe White Island Rabtrt Uerriek. 3608 

"This Worid is all a Fleeting Show", .Thomas Moore 3699 

The Land o' tbe Leal Carotina Nairn 360(1 

Heavenward Carolina Saime 3700 

"Kelt i» Not Here" Carolina Sairne 3701 

At Home in Heaven James Monltomery. 3701 

PiTidise Christina Gmrsina Rostelli. . 3705 

''Heaven Ovoarchea Earth and 

Sea" Christina Ceoriina RoneUi.. 3706 

TV Sansct City Ilmry Sytvesltr Cartmtll 3706 

Gndatim Josiak COIktI Holland 3707 

The Other World Ilarriel Beechcr Slowe 3 " 

My Ain Countiee Mary Lee DemaresI 3 

Hone Sdaard Soaiaiid Silt 3 

Ctiartless. Emily Dickinson 3 

"It Cannot Be" DoiU Banis Stckeb i 

AThank^vinglofiodforIli»Ho«ae..*ofter/flemc* 3 

The Shepherd Boy Sinjts in the Valley 

o( Hnnitiation John Btinyan 3 

Ttw Pilgrim JahnBunyan 3 

"The Bin), Let Loose in Eastern 

Skis" Thomas Moore 3 

•■HeUrahLon«whoUvethWeU"..//i»a'ii«Bo(w. 3 

The MaUer's Touch Iloralius Bonar. 3 

Ho» We Leam IIoroHus Bonar 3 

Love. Ctorp Herbert 3 

The CtJlar George Herbert. 3 

Yirtoe Geerie Herbert j 

DiKiplifie George Herbert 3 

Holy Bapttsm Ceergt Herbert 3 

UnldtKbicaa Geerge Herbert 3 

Prayer Richari Craskaw 3 

— Piwrideow ReginaU Heber 3 

The Beloved Kalketvu Tynan 3 

HyL^Lcy Haen Hunt Jackson 3 

The Surry Host John Lameasler Spalding 3 

The Celestial Surgeon Robert Louis Stevenson 3 

Tlie Way, the Truth, and the Life .... Theodart Parher 3 

Tbe IfuetUgbt Frederic Wiliiam Henry 

Ilettdity Lydia Avery Coanky Ward.. 3 

Brii«ing Our SlMavei Silabelh Aiers 3 

Tike Heart Edna Dean Proclor 3 

Forvanl Edna Dean Proctor 3 

'■The HarveM Waiu" Uoyd MigiK 3 

One Gift I Ad: Virginia Bioren Harrison. . . 3 

Macdalea Henry Kittgiley 3 

CefsWiD Uildred IlontUs 3 

Mta the Martyrdom Seharmei Iris 3 

Hm Burial o( Mows CecU Fnmas Alexander 3 


Tabic ot Contents 

The Croofccrl Footpath Otiter WrudtS Ualma. ... 3 

Allah's Tent AHkur Callm 3 

Kl. John BaplLil Arlkur O'Skmuslmessy 3 

For ihe Baptist WUliam Dntmmani 3 

"The Spring ia Laic" Louiie Cktndla MmUUx. . . 3 

The (Jucstton KatU AnHnd Taylor 3 

A Divine Rapture Fraud! Quarks 3 

■'[[ 1 Could Shut the Gate A«iun«t 

my ThouRhts" Jtka Diuid 3 

His Litany lo Ihc Holy Spirit Robert Htrrkk 3 

To Keo) a True Lent Raberl Ilerrki 3 

The Fallen SUr Gcorgt Datley 3 

"We Need not Bid. lor Cloistered 

Cdi " Join KeUe 3 

"A Child My Choice" Reberl UtiuJaeea 3 

An Upper Chamber Friutcet Bamterwuit. 3 

The Second Crucifixion , . .JtUkard LtGaiiieniK j 

The Voice of Christmas IlartyKtmp 3 

Te Martyrum Candidatus , Liemi Johnson 3 

On a ScutptuTcd Head of the Christ. . . MoUm Ltoturd fiiktr 3 

Good KinK Wencesks John Neat 3 

Simon the Cyrenean Lucy LyaltloH 3 

The Winjted Worshippers. Ckarlts Spratue 3 

DeSheefrfol' SarokPraa McUaaGrenK.. 3 

The Lost Sheep Elitabelh Ctcilia Clepiam: . 3 

Lost but Found lloralius Beaar 3 

Staina Thtodosia Garrison 3 

A Hymn to Gwl the Father. Joht Damn j 

Sheep and Lambs. KalkariiK Tynan .3 

"All's Weil" .Waiiai* Allen Btalcr. 3 

Living Waters Caroline Spmccr. 3 

One hy One AJdaidf Aane Pracirr 3 

Unbelief JUitahelh Vori Can- 3 

"There is no Death" John Ltittey ifcCrirry. . . . 3 

The Fool's Prayer Mviard Rowtaad Sill. . . . ,3 

The EcHpse Henry Vaughan 3 

Comfort Klit^lk Barrell BraaiUng. . 3 

Si. Annes' Eve Alfred Tennyson 3 

His Banner Over Mc Grrald Uasiey 3 

Je«us the Carncnter CalHariatC. LidMl.. .... . 3 

■'ISawThee'' RayPaimer.. 3 

The Veteran of Heaven FtancU Thompson 3 

Ludfer in Starlight .Gtorge Mertiilk 3 

KoraChrisli ., Alia Brom j 

Chriatus Consolator ...Rossiltr WorMnglon J&iy- 

That HnlyThinK. Gtornr Uaedonaiil.. . . . ■, 3 

What Christ .Said Georfr UacdonalJ, 3 

SanLorensoGiustiniuni'sMothcr.. . .:4J(crr M(ywy/ ,, 

A Ballad of Treesand the Master. .Sidney Lanirr. 3 

The Mystery Ralph Hodgson. 3 


nicstr* Abraham Coles. Ir 377, 

Slabat Mater Dolomsii Abraiawi Coles. Ir ,. 377Q 

Veni. Bancle Spiritus Catharine Winhvarlh, Ir.. . 37S0 

Vcni, Creator Splrilus John Dryden. Ir 3782 

Stanio-i from "SonK to David" Christopher Smart 3783 

No* Nodi Indicat Scienliam WiUiam n<Aintlo» 3786 

"The Spacious FirmamenlonHi5h",/oic^ Addison., , 3787 


'I'afate of Contents 

Cnivenal Prajfr Altamier Peft 3788 

'OGod.OurHelpinAgiMPast" Isaac Walls.. 37«o 

"J«siia.Loverof MySoui".. Ckarlts Wesley. 3791 

"ACInrsetoKeepiHave" CkatUi Wesley jTOi 

CoioaatioD , Bdwaid Fenontl. 3751 

■Holy, Holy, Holy" Retinoid HcUr 37OJ 

"The Son of God Goes Forth to War" Retwatd Btber 3704 

"FromGreenland'BltyMoOiilains"..fej™iUffa4er 375S 

Lighl Shining Out of Darkness WUtitim Cauper 3796 

• Kak of Ages Augitslus UmUague T*fMy. 3797 

Love to the Churcb. Timvlky DitiglU 3707 

Good Tidings oF Great Joy to All 

Pcofje Jama Mmtitmery. 375(8 

Chiut Onr Example in Suflering .... Jama Utmlgomery. 3799 

"Just as I Am" Charlollt Eilioll 3S00 

"Blest Be the Tie that Binds" Jolu Famxll 3801 

"In (be Cross ot Christ I Glory" Jakn Bewring 3*" 

"Abide with Me" Henry Francis Lyle 3B01 

The Hour o( Peaceful Rest WUtian Brnfiam Tappan . . 3803 

The Pillar of the Cloud John Hrnry NnamOH 3S04 

"Nearer lo Thee" .Sarak Fleaer Adams j8os 

'■A Mighty Fortress isOut God" Freileritk Ilcnry U/dce 3806 

Prayer lo the Trinity James Edmeslon 3807 

in Sorrow ThBmas Uasltngs jKoS 

"Juil for To-day" Sylnl F. Partridge. 3808 

Lovest Thou Me? William CoKper 3800 - 

The Voice from Galilee Heraltus Benat jSio 

Failb Ray Palmer 3810 

He Standeth at the Door. Artkur Cleteland Coxe jSir 

"There is a Green Hill" Cecil Frances Alexander j8ij 

Nearer Home Pkatbe Cory 3813 

"Onward, Christian Soldiers" Sabine BartHt-Cauld 3814 

Evening GiargeWasliintlaitDeane. . . 3815 

A Dedication Rudyard KipUng 3816 


Dies In Temmiio di Celano jSip 

Slabat Maler Dolorosa Jaeapone da Todi 3811 

Veni, Sancle Spiritus Rabtrt I ! . of France. 381J 

Veni, Creator Spirilus. St. Grigary Ik Creal {/).... jSij 

VrbsSyon Aurea ^ . . . Bernard oj Cluny 3814 

Urbs Beala Hierusolem Vnksovm 3SiC> 

Vivamus. Mca Lesbia Gains ViJtriits CaDiUus 3817 

PersicosOdi OuiHlus Horalius Flacius. , . 3827 

InletKr Vilx. Quinlus Horalim Flaccus. . . 3818 

Rfctius Vives (hiinlus Uoraliia Flaccns. . . 381Q 

De Brcvitsle Vitx Urikivrm 38J9 

Lauriger Horatius Unktuiait 383 1 

En Feste BurR Martin Lutker 3831 

Lied, "Ins slille land" Jokann Gaadent vdh SiUis- 

Serais 3831 

Die Wacbt am Rbein Max Scfmcckenburger. 3833 

DcsDcutschen Vaterland Binil Mtriti Amdl 3834 

La Maracillaise. ClaKdeJosepkRinigelde Lists 3836 


Table of Contents 

Ballade ries Dames du Temps Jadis...Frriiivi>u Villm jSj7 

BalUdc de Fr6rc Lubin Clfmenl Uarel jBjS 

Lc Grenier. . .' Pierre-Jean de BitaKger. . . . 38JI) 

Le Roi d'Vvelot Piare-Jean de Btranger. . .-. jSjo 

Fantaisie. Glraidde Nenal j&j! 

L'Art ...Thtafihiie Gamier..- 3841 

Carcassonne. , Guilace Nadaad 38^1 

Hassgesang Gcjien England EmH Liisauer 3S46 

Index or Authors 3&ig 

Imdex of Fmsr Lines jqij 

Index or Titles 3575 

p:hy Google 


D,g,t,7P:h» Google 


Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; 
There are four seasons in the niitul of man: 
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear 
Take^ i^ ^ beauty wjth an easy span: ... , . 

He has his Summer, when luxuriously 
Spring's honeyed cud of youthful thought he loves 
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high 
Is nearest unto Heaven: quiet coves 

His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings 
He furleth close; contentt-d so to look 
On mists in idleness^to lel fair things 
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook: — 

He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, 
Or else he would forego his mortal nature. 

John Ktals (1795-1811] 




Only ^ baby ^mali, ,j . ^^^.^ 

Dropped irom the stiea. 
Only a. laughing face, 

Two sunny eyes; 
Only tWo eherty lips. 

One cbub}>y aqs«i . . . >. i " 
Only two lUUe.hiMMls, i i 

Teniittliat»es.. , 

Only a golden head, ' 

Curly an((sofi; ' " . " '■ 
Only a tongue that wags 

Loudly and oft;' ■. ■.'; 
Oh)yftlitbb,lmuti, , . , - 

Emptyof;(llOugbti . , -: 
Only a little b<Brt, .. ,,/i 

Troubled with saught. . | 

Only a tender Bower ' 

Sent U3 to rear; 
Only a lite to love 

While we'dre Here; 
Oidy a babysEiidlt 

Never at rest; ., , - _ ., 
Small, buthowdeajtous; _ , ^^ 

God knoweth best. " 

... ,. . MalAuis fi^i li,&ti~: /I 

SoMETBlNG to live, for came to thepl^c^, ^^^ ., 

Something to die for maybe. 
Something togivela«n! sorrow »j«r*a, ■jii// 

Andyetit'MAxmlT'jRh^l.:.'. . i^..,.,i ! 


poems of Youth and Age 

Cooing, and laughter, and gurgles, and cries, 

Dimples for tenderest kisses. 
Chaos of hopes, and of raptures, and sighs, 

Chaos of feats and of blisses. 

Last year, like all years, the rose and the thorn; 

This year a nildemesG maytie-, 
But heaven stooped under the roof on the morn 

That it brought them only a baby. 

Barriet Prescoll Spcjord [1835- 


"I HAVE no name; 
I am but two days old." 
What shaU I call thee? 
"I happy am, 

Sweet joy befall thee! 

Pretty joy! 

Sweet joy, but two days <Jd. 

Sweet joy I call thee; 

Thou dost smile, 

I sing the while; 

Sweet joy befall theel 

WUliam Blait [1757-1817] 


From ■- At tlK Buk of tiM SatUi Wind " 

Where did you come from, baby dear? 
Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where <Md you get those eyes so blue? 
Out of the sky as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? 

Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did yoa get that little tear? 
I found it waiting when I got here. 

p:hy Google 

To a New-bom Baby CMrl ,5 

What makes yoorfoiefaecul ao amagtb add lUghi* 
A soft hand stroked it aa I went by. 
What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? 
I saw something better than any one knows. 
Whence that tbiee-comered smile of bliss?- 
Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 
Where 61d you get this pearly eat? 
God spoke, and it came out to hear. 
Where did you get those arms and hands? 
Love made itself into bonds and bands. 
Feet, where did you oraae, you dadiog tbin|p? 
From the saoie box as tlie ch^ubs' wings. 
How did they all just come to be you? 
God thought about me, and so I grew. 
But how did you come to us, you dear? 
'God thought about you, and so I am here. , . : , >; 
Garsc MaedonM (1S14-1D05] 

And did thy sapphire shallop slip ', 
Its moorings suddenly, to dip 
Adown the dear, ethereal sea . , 
From star to star, all silently? 
What tenderness of archangeb 
In silver tbrilling syllables 
Pursued thee, or what dulcet hymn 
,_ Low-chanted by the cherubim? 
And thou departing must have heard 
The holy Mary's farewell word, 
Who with deep eyes and wistful smQe 
Remeinbered Earth a little while. .,' 
Now iioDi the coasts (tf momiilg pide 
Comes safe to pott thy tmj! sajli 
Nov hxTe we seen by eady sun,. 
Thy mirade of life begun. 
AU breathing and aware thou art. . 
With btwty toiqiled m tl^ hout :. 


~S \ Pmrni df Youth xbd A^ 

'.' TdlettbeMrecogriue-UmlhriU/ - r .7 

Of wings along (at. amire fall, - '•.:'.■,<.'. 
.AndieMwithin the hollow sky , |,, ., 

Thy ;friends the angels rushing by. ' 'i 

These shall recall that tliou hast known' 
Their distant country as thine own, ■ ■ '' 
Toapare'tbec word of vale* and 5t»ean»,i- ■ 
Andpubliaiheav«itlmxighjtiy,4TW^>»- ,.' 
The human aocenU of the breese , .,; | ,, 
Through, ^waying star-acquainted tre« _ . 
Shall seem a voice heard earlier, 
Her voice, the adoring sigh of her, 
■ Whtti'thou amid rosy cher(d>fter ■ i' I 
Didst hear her call thee, far aw»j», •': '■- 
And dream in very Paradise _ ■ i 

The worship ol thy mother's eyea, , ■ i„, , 
Grace Hazard Coniling [18 


'■<■■■■• tN HER CRADLE 

YfH0is^liere,thftt.Jiowl9ee, , , 
This dainty new di.vinity, , 

Love's sister, Venus' child? 'She shows 
Her hues, white lily and pink rose, ^' 
And in tier laughing eyes the snares 
That hearts entangle unawaris. 
Ah, woe to men if Love should yield 
His arrows to this gir! to wield '[^ 
Even in play, for she woifld ^ve ' ' 
Sore wounds that hpAe might take'ffnd live. 
■Yet'no such wanton jtrain ts hers" ', 
Nor lieda's child and Jupiter's ' 
'is sh'e^ though swans no softer are 
Than w^oni she fairer is by* far. 
rtior^e-waGrbonibcside'the'Till ' v 
Thalf ga^ieB fratoiPumassiis' bitt,' ' ' 
Andby tbb brighu Pierian spring 
SheshallreneivaanoSerihgi.M ■, , 
Fromewefy youth Wbo pipefiA:etTB)hi 
BetidBi!hisJockBi^iMttbe.pltiki. I // 


[ To Liaye fienfe 

But I, the first, this very day, 
Wm tmt'tit her iby iMtMe/lay, 

With scent of bay and hum of t>«e& / 
Faintly from fai-aff Sidly. . . /. 
Ah, well I know that not for us , . 
Are Virgil and Theocritus, 
And that the golden age is past 
Whereof they sang, anii thou, the last, 
Sweet Spenser, of their god-like line, 
Sbfar far too swift For verse of mine ; 
One strain tb cunpas&trf youi bong. 
Yet thwe aie pdata Uwt prolong 
Of your rare voice the ravishrafent 
In silver cadences; content 
Were TIE I could but rehearae 
One stave of Wither's starry verse. 
Weave such wrought richness as reciUs 
Britannia's lovely Pastorals, 



Poems of Youth and Age 


You sieep upon your motlier's breast, 

Your race begun, 
A welcome, long a wished-for Guest, 

Whose age is One. 

A Baby-Boy, you wonder why 

You cannot run; 
You try to talk— how hard you tryl — 

You're only One. 

Ere long you won't be such a dunce: 

You'll eat your bun, 
And fly your kite, like folk who once 

Were only One. 

You'll rhyme and woo, and flght and joke. 

Perhaps you'll puni 
Such feaU are never done by folk 

Before they're One. 

Some day, too, you may have your joy, 

And envy none; 
Yes, you, yoiurself, may own a Boy, 

Who isn't One. 

He'll dance, and laugh, and crow; hell do 

As you have done: 
(You crown a happy home, though you 

Are only One.) 

But when he's grown shall you be heoe 

To share his fun. 
And talk of times when he (the Dead) 

Was hardly One? 

' poor lot to be 

m old, you see, — 


k Locker-Lampson (iSii- 


To a New-BotnChiH' ■' 

Fair Angel-rtiwr. 
No wonder now y«u would have stayed, 
Buthushyour cries, my little maid,! r; ■ 

Tti^ journey's over. 
For, utter stranger as you are, 
TTierc yet are many hearts ajar 

For your arriving, 
And trusty friends and lovers true 
Are waiting, rcatly-made for you, 

"Without your striving. 

p:hy Google 

Poems 9f,,Ycn>tl» vd, Age 

The earth is full of lovely things, 
And if at fiiat yoji vpa yjouf *n^, : | 

You'll soon forget them; 
And others, of a rarer kind ' , 
Will grow upon your tender mind — ' . 

If you will let them — 

Until you find that your eitchinge' 

Of Heaven for earth expands your range 

E'enBsa:£ier, ,// 

And that ypDr:Du>therf yottAqdl,' jr., , // 
If we do what we dwuld, may ^y: ■-, f 

Than Angels higbei. - 



CHBjKiEsaswftas July peaches,:. ,■ ■ 
Lips whose d«wy scarlet teaches,. - ■ i 
Poppies paleness-ground laj:ge eyes 
Ever great with new surprise, 
Minutes filled with shadelcss gladness, 
Minutes just as brimmed with sadneSs, ' 
Happy smiles and wailing cries,' 
Crows and laughs and tearful- eyes, ' 
Lights and shadows swifter born 
Than on wind-swept Autumn ctirrt, 
Ever some new tiny notion ■ ■ ,-' ■, i' 
MriJiBgevefylinibatimoliidnrJ-.: ,; \n{ 
Catching up of legs aTrd arms/ I 
lliroWingS 'back and small alanra, ■^ 
Clutching fingers — straightetiingi jeitv' 
Twining feet whose each toe works, 
Kickings up and straining risings^ .^ , 
Mother's eyer new sufprisings, ., ^^ |. 

Hands all wants and. looks oU wondpr 
At all things thp heavens under, , , , ^ ^ 
Tiny scorns ol smiled reprovings, ^ . 
That have mote of loye than Joyi^if^ 


Mischitls.diQiieiwiU] such « witvung] ', ]< 

BreaJLJDgs dire of plates and glasses, ^ 
Graspiiig's. small at all that parses, ' ', 
Pullings off of all that'sable ■' 
To be Cfwight from tray or^abk;'. ]. .1 
Silences— small meditxtkins/ i i ;< ■> -iA' 

i 7 
Wealth fo^ wfiich \^*'know no mtiatftnfe;" ' 
Pieasure high above all pleaitire, ' " ■ ■ ' 
Gladness bHiliinmg over gladiieM, ■■■ ' ■'■ 
Joy in care — delight in sadness, ' "■■'-" ' 
I>}vdine^ bey6hd conil^ttDe^, ' "' ' ' 
SweetncaftcHstaricihgdUswectneis, " "■"' 
Beauty all tiiat beauty Hiay be— '-' ■'" ' 
That's May Bennett; flfat's ihy bAfty. '• ' 

:.. /■■.., 1 ,1... ,I.-i.) 
AOtE "■,^;^; ''^: ''"■;] 

Of deepest Uueof summer ski^. . / 
Is wTQHght, the heaven (it ber eyes, i ) 
Of that fiiie gold t6e aulumris wW ' 
Is wrought the glory of her hair. ' 

Ctfn»e leaves fnhioaBd in tbeiSMlth / 
IsahapedtMrnwdottaeBlBioutb. I i 

And froin the honeyed lipa o^ bll'sa . 
Is drawn the sweetness of her kissi,' , 

'Mid twBlght thnlAw that rejafce .■■>- I 
Is found the Caden<»of htv voic% ■• • fl 


Poems of Yotith and Age 

Of winds that wave the ffestcfn At 
Is made the velvet touch of her. 
Of all earth's songs God took Ihe half 
To make the ripple of tier laugh. , 

I hear you ask, "Pray who is she?"— ^ . 1 
This maid that is so dear to me. 

"A reigning queen in Fashion's whirl?" ' 
Nay, nay! She is my baby girl. 

Herbert Baskford fiSTi- 


Fragoletta, blessed one! 
What tJiink. you of the light of the sun? 
Do you think the dark was best. 
Lying snug in mother's breast? 
Ah! i knew that sweetness, too, 
Fragoletla, before you! 
But, Fragoletta, now you're bom, 
You must learn to love the mom, 
Love the lovely working light. 
Love the miracle of sight, 
' JjDve the thousand things to do — 
Little girl, I envy you! — 
Love the tJiousand things to see, 
Love your mother, and — love me! 
And some night, Fragoletta, soon, ' 
I'll t^e you out to see the moon; 
And for the first time, child of ours, 
You shall— think of it! — look on flowers^ 
And smell them, too, if you are good. 
And bear the gi«en leaves m the wood • 
Talktnig) talking, all together 
In the4i^py windy weather; 
And if the journey's not loo far ' 

For little limbs so lately made, 
Limb upon limb like petals laid, 
We'll go and picnic, in a star. 


. Songs for Fragoletta '• 

£tue eyva, looking i^ at me, 
I wonder what you really see, 
Lyinffia year cradle therei 
Fragrant as a bmnch of myrrh? 
Helpless little bands aod feet, 
O so hdplcasl so sweetl 
"Hny tongue that cannot talk, 
-Tiny feet that cannot walk, 
Nothing vf you that can do 
Aught, except those eyee of blue. 
How they open, how they close! — 
Eyelids of the babj'-rose. 
Open and shut — so blue, so wiae, 
Bttby-^eUdft, baby-eyes. 

That, Fragoletta, is the rain 
Beating upon' the Window-pane; 
But lo! The golden sun appears, 
To kis; away the window's tears. ' 
Tliat, Fragoletta, is the wind. 
That rattles so the window-blind; " 
And yonder shining thing's a star, ' ' 
Blue eyes — you seem ten times as far. 
That, Fragoletta, is a bird 
That speaks, yet never says a word; 
Upon a cherry tree It sings, 
Simple as all mysterious things; 
Its Utde life to pefjc and ^pe. 
As long as dierHes ripe and ripe, 
And minister unto the need 
Of b^y-tnrds that feed and feed. 
This, Fragdetta, is a flower, ' 

Open and fragrant for an hour, 
A flower, a transitory thing, ' 

Each petal fleeting as a wing, •■ ■' ■ 
All a May tttoniing blotts and Mows, 
And then fotevtrlattiig gots. ''!'- i 


;.i:4 Poei>iai;^of Dfouth^jwid- Age 

Blue eyeSf agaimt the. iriliteMSS ipttfesed 
Of little.OMther's^hEUpwedjbnaflt,'. I 
The while yourftr^teblinglipaafe^, 
Look a4i at motUer'B bended hcad^ T 
All bentriictian over your-' 
O blue eyes lookiBg into blori ' '•■ • 

Fragoletta is so small, ■: ■ ■ 

We wonder that she lives it all—' '' 
Tiny 'alabaster girl, ' ■ ''■■', 
Hardly bigger than a peari; 
That is why W take iuch care; ■ 
Lest sometne run away with fcec ■: ' 


I HAVE gpt a u?w-borii sister: , ,, i 
I was nigh tie first that kissed her. 
Wheifl tiic nursing-woman brought her 
To papa, his infant daughter, , / 
Ho\v papa's dear eyes did glisten! , 
She wiU shortly be to christen; , 
And papa has made the offer, , 

i shall have the naming of her. 

Now I wonder wbat woul4 please her,- 
Cbarlottc, Julia, or Louisa? 
Ann and Mary, they're too commtaj; 
Joan's loo fprmal for a womaj); 
Jane's a prettier name beside;! 
But we had a Jajie that died. 
They wouldsay, if 'twas Rebecoi, ' 
That she was a little Quaker., , 
ikiiBh'a pretty, but that iooks/ , ■ 
Better io (JdEBglisb booMi r ■./. 


Bl^cbe' is' oot'of f^hioti' hi*." ' 
Konc that! have hkmedaiyift '■ 
^soigoodas'Margartt.'' '" ■ ■' 
Emily is neat aod fioe; 
What do^ tldlDk uEiGaroliiuP' '' 
Hatrl'*!!! pueded and pcrpUaed 
What to.'Cfaobee oi' think' bfjieatl :' 
I am in a little fever ii - i 
Lest the name that I should give her 


"Bow^aumi)' pounded dtya the ^)a}>y weigh — 
BBby^.^«lLo.camfi bUt a mOn(h< bg^i^ : 

HowrmaBy pounds isbm tite WmvoX^ curl 
To-tfa« Nsyt [teint of the restless toe? " 

Grandfather ties the 'kerchief knot. 
Tenderly guides .the swinging weight. 

And carefEny Wer his glaiati lieers 
To read the record, "only eight," 

Softly the ediQlgoea around: 
Tbe father iaugha at the tjny gitl.; ■ 

The fair younjmotheri sings the]worcls, / 
While grandn]9tter smopths the golden curl. 

. A^ stooping above the prpcious thing^ ^ 

Nestles a kiss within' a praye^, , ..j. 

Miinnuring softly "Littlcx>ne, .^..^i, j. 

' Grandfather did not weigh you faii-:" 

Nd>o3y Weighed tte ba'ty's smile, ' " ' 
Or thelove that came With ilhfe hfclffl^ one; 

Nobod/Wei^ed the thneadsd* care; '' 
From wMcfa a Wonlan's lif4 is spun. 


7i6 Po^s. of Youth and Age 

No index tells Ui£ mighty worth. 

0£ a litUe baby's quiet breath— i 
A seit, uncea^ng metronome. 

Patient and faithful until deathi 

Nobody wd^^ied the baby's soul. 
For here on earth no wei^its there be 

That could avail; God only knows 
Its value in eternity. 

Only ei^t pounds to hold a soul 
TTiat seeks no angel's silvtr wtn|g, 

But shrines it in this human guise, 
Within so frail and small a thing! 

Oh, mother! laugh your merry note, 
Be gay and glad, but don't forget ' 

From baby's eyes kK>kB out a soul 
That claims a home in Eden yet. 

Ellul Lytm Bters {1817- 


A baby's feet, like seashells pink, 

Might tempt, should heaven see meet. 
An angel's lips to kisa, we think, 
A baby's feet. 

Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat 

They stretch and spread and wink 
Their ten soft buds that part and meet- 
No flower-bells that expand and shrink - 
,; . (^eam half so heavenly sweet. 
As shine on life's untrodden brink 
A baby's feet. 


, Uttk ,'Fpet 

A baby's hands, Kte rosebuds furled, 

Where yet 50 leaf ejcpaods, : I 

Ope if you touch, though dose upcurled,— 
A baby's hands. 

Then, even as warriors grip thdr brands 

When battle's bolt is hurled, 
They dose, denched hard like tighteinttg bands. 

No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled 

Matdi, even in loveliest lands, 
The sweetest flowers in all the worid,— 
A baby's hands. 

A baby's eyes, ere tpeedi begin, 
Ere lips lean* y.ord» or sighs, 
Bless all things bright enough to win 

Ai baby's eyes. j 

Love, while thesweat thing laughs andlies, 

And sle^ &>W4 o\A anfl in. 
Sees perfect in them Paradise! 

Thdr ^ncc might cast out pain and sin. 

Their speech make dumb the wise,. , i > 

By mute glad godhead felt within 
A baby's eyes. 

Aigemm CharUs Swnhumt (iB|37.Ti90fll 


Two Uttle feet, so sinaU that both may nesUe 

In one caressing hand,— 
Two tender feet Upon the untried border 

Of life'» rayeterioits land- ' 


CiS Poems'of'lYoilt*)' and Age 

Dimpled, and soft, and^pink as peach-tree blossoms. 

In Afnl's fragiuDj 'i^y^.. . i ,„ , ■ ;,f / 
How can they walk among the bqery ti^gl^,! j 

.MlOP^ the woild's rough w^>^^ jj .^^., , 

These rose-white feet, along the doubtful future, 

Must, bear a mother's. load; ,^ r.wr 

Alas! since Woman has the heavier biircjep, ' ,i 
An4 vralks the harder Toad. ., ,. 

'Love, for a while, will jnake the path before th^ 

AU dainty, smooth, and fair,—, , ,', ' 
Will cull awaj^ the bramblos, letting only .' . .. 
The roses blossocQ there. 

But when the mother's watchful eyes are ^irouded 

Away from sight of men, 
And these dear feet are'left withcfut her goidliigi ■' 

Who shaH direct therri then?' ' ■'1 

■ ■■■ ■■.■■ (■:... HI 

How will they be allured, betrayed, deluded. 

Poor little untaught teetl 
Into whSt dl^ary mazes will (hey watider, ■' .'■'■A 

What dangers *iil they mtetP' "- '■■■.■'- 

Will they go stumbling blindly in the darkness 

Of 'sorrow's tearful shades? i', tIk 1 
Or find the upland slopes of Peace and Beauty,! 

Whose sunlight nevertadeiS ; -mn 

Will they go lolling up Ambftion's summit. 

The common world above? 
Or in some nameless vale, securely sheltered. 

Walk sidf by sijie «iith. Love? 

'-Some ftet there b^ which walk life's tracH wnvbunded. 
Which find but pleasaM wtays: 

Some hearts thei'frbt to whkh'Thta (ffe'i»odl7"T 
A rotlnd of ba(i{]yftkyii. •' ' 


But these are few. Far more there are who wander 

With6ilit a' bdpe'tfr frieiiid,— 
Who find thfi^ journey ivil of pa i as and,l^pfle9,, - 

AndJcng ta E^ch tbe end. , ,, , ; 

Ah! who may read the futnre? For our darting ' 
We crave ail blessings SvKOt, ■■■ ' . I 

And pray that He who k«ds the crying nvteas ' I 
Will guide the baby's feet. 


.. ^ THE BABIE ' 

Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes, 

Nae ^lUdkhi' on heli' feet ; 
Her supple ankles while as aijaw. ,, 

Or early blossoms sweet. ', 

Her sii^edress.o' sprinkled PHtk,. i 

H^, double, dimp^t chin, 
Her puckered lips, an' l»umy mou', 

With na ane tooth niti^C 

Her een sae like her mither's een, 
Twa gentle, Kqutd 'things; ' 

Her face is like an angd's face,—' ' ' ' 
We're gjadste has nae wings. ,. . | 

She is the bliddin' Of our JuVe', ' " ' 

A giftie God gied us: 
We maun na luve the gift owre wee!, 

'Twad be nae blcsrio' thils. 

Wfe stai mauii luve the Oiver' Uiafr, '' 

An' ste Bfirrt m the given; ' '■ "' ' 
An' sae she'll lead us opto'Hto, " " 
' Oorliabie straight fraeH«vett: ' 

■■■■•'■ ■ JtreMiai'Earn^s Sdnmr^lii^k-igo4\ 

p:hy Google 

) Poems of youtli and Age 


Son Httfe hands that stray and clutch, ■ ' '■' 

Like fern fronds curi and uncurl bold, 

WhUe baby ; , 

Close sleep 

What is it : 


fingers si 

How should you know you hold so much? 

Two full hearts beating you inclose, 

Hopes, feare, prayers, longings joys and y/o^-f- 

AU yours to hold, O little hands! 

More, more than wisdom understands 

And love, love only knows. 

Laurence Binyon [1869- 

Bahtholomew is very sweet. 
From sandy hair to rosy feet. 

Bartholomew is sin months old, 
And dearer far than pearls or gold. 

Bartholomew has deep blue eyes. 

Round pieces dropped from out the skies. 

Bartholomew is hugged and kissed: 
He loves a flower in either fist. 

Bartholomew's my saucy sonr 
No mother has a sweeter one! 

Normin Gate [i86j- 


Mv child came to me with the equinox, 
The wild wind blew him to my swinging door. 
With flakes of tawny foam from off th? shore. 
And shivering spindrift whirled across the rocks, 
. jflungdown the sky, the wheeling swailow-flocka 


^^Phmp, My King" ' 

Cried him a greedng, add the loFdly woods, 
Waving lean arma of welcome one by one, 
Cast down their russet cloaks and golden hoods. 
And bid their dandng leaflets trip and run 
Before the tender feet of this my son. 

Therefore the sea's swiift fire is in his vdfis, 
And in his heart the glory of the sea; 
Therefore the storm-Wind shall his cbmrade be, 


On parent knees, a naked new-bom child, 
Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled: 
So live, that, sinking to thy life's last sleep. 
Calm thou may'st smile, while all around Ihee weep. 

William Jones (iT46-t7B4l 


" Wit tan Bfm kit icby km iki nmmd ami ItHrf snva'My." 

Look at me with thy large brown eyes, 

PhiKp, my king! 
Round whom the enshadowing purple lies 
Of babyhood's royal dignities. 
Lay on my neck thy tiny hand 

With love's Hlvisible scepter laden; 
I am tjilne Bather to command 
Till thou shalt find a quem-handmaiden, 
FhiHp, my Idi^. 


Ol I'oems ot Youth Htid'lAge 

O the day when tbou goest arwootog, 

Philip, my kingi 
When those beautiful lips aie tuiag. 
And some gentle heart's Ijars inuloiog, 
Thou dost enter, love-cmwned, and th(re 

Sittest love^glorificd. Rule kindly, 
Tenderly, over thy kingdom fail, 
For we that love, ahl ne love bo Uindly, 
Philip, my king. 

Philip, my king. 

— A wreath not of gold, but palm. One day, 

Philip, my king! 
Thou too must tread, as we trod, a way 
Thorny and cruel and cold and gray; 
Rebels within thee, and foes without, . . 

\^ill snatch at thy crown. But march on, glorious, 
Martyr, yet monarch! till angeb shout. 
As thou sittest at the feet of God victorious, 
"Philip, the king!" 
Dinah Maria Mvlock Craik [i8i6--tS87] 


Draw back the cradle curtains, Kate, 

While watch and ward you're keeping, i 
Let's see the monarch in. his state, 

And view him while he's sleeping. . , , ! 
He smiles and clasps his tiny haad, 

With sunbeams, o'ec him gleanuqgt" I 
A world of baby fairyland 

He visits while he's die 

p:hy Google 

"^k King'iof>tfiel'Cnidle'[ i^ 

Monarchof peariy pomden-pufls-i' / 

Asleep in nest so cosy, 
Shielded from breath ofibreezes rougb i 

By curtains warm and TO^:'. ■ ,' . i 

His piltowwfieri'itfe rumpled— ■ ■ 

A couch of rose leaves soft and sweet, ' 

Not dne of which is crumpledf ' 

Will jfoiider dainty dimpled hand- 
Size, nothing and a quarter-^ . r 

E'er grasp a saber, lead a band ' 
Tog»«yaod toslaoghter?! '• ■ 

Or, mayl ask, will thost blue eyes — 
In baby patois, "peepers" — 

E'er in the House ot Commons rise. 
And try to catch the Speaker's? 

Tboikgh rosy, dimt^ed, pliimp, and round" 
Though fragile, soft, and tender, ■---•■■ 

Sometirtws, oias! it may be fflund ■ ' '' '' •' ■ 
The thread of Hftiis^endefl 'i' ' I' 


Potfina of Youth and Agfe 

A little shoe, & little gbve — 1 ' 

Affection never waning — 
The Bhattes«d idol of our iow- ■ ■ '-' 

Is all that is remaining! 

Then does one ctuuice, in fancy, bear, 

SmaU feet ia childish patter. 
Tread soft as they a grave draw neat, 

And voices hush their chatter; 
lis small and new; they panse io (ear. 

Beneath the gray church tower. 
To coiisecTa4e it with a tear, 

And deck it with a flower. 

Who can predict the future, Kat*— 

Your fondest aspiration! 
Who knows the solemn laws of fate, , 

That govern all creation? 
Who knows what lot awaits your boy—' ■ 

Of happiness or sorrow? 
Sufficient for to-day is joy. 

Leave tears, Sweet, for to-morrow! 

Joseph AMySlmy (lajfr-i.) 


So fair, so dear, so warm upon my bosom, 
And'in my hands the little rosy feet. ' 

Steep on, my little bird, my Iamb, my blossom; 
Sle^ on, deep on, my sweet. ' 

What is it God hath given me to cherish. 
This living, moving wonder which b mine— i 
Mine only? Leave it with me or I perish, ■ 
Dear Lord of love divitie. 

DeariLordt 'tia wonderful beyond all woiuIh, : 
This tender miracle vouchsafed to me. 
One with myself, yet just so far asundec 

That I myself may see. i 


No Baby in the House 

Flesh of my flesh, aitd yet so subtly liQjiiqg 
New selis with old, all things, that I have been 
With present joys beyond my fonner thinking 
And future things unseen. 

There life began, and here it links with heaven, 
Tbe golden chain of years scarce dipped adown 
From birth, ere once again a hold is given 
And nearer to God's Throne. 

Seen, held in arms and clasped around sp tightly,— 
My love, my bird, I wiU not let thee go. 
Yet soon the little rosy feet must tightly 
Go pattering to and fro- , 

Mine, Lord, all mine Thy gift and loving token. 
Mine — yes or no, unseen its soul divine? 
Mine by the chain of love with links unbroken. 
Dear Saviour, Thine and mine. 

John Arthur GoodckUd [i8jr- 


No baby in the house, I know. 

Tie far too nice and clsan. 
No toys, by careless fingers strewn, 

Upon tine floors are seen. 
No finger-marks are on the panes, 

No wooden men Bet up in rows, 

OrmarshaledoSinpaire; • 
NoHttfe stocluiigs to be darned, 

AU ragged at the toes; • 

No ^ecrf mending tobedone, 

Made up of baby-clothes; 
No little troubiea to be soothed;- 

No little hands to fold; 
No gdmy fingers to be washed; i 

No stbries; to be told; 


Poerfii of Youth ahd Age 

No tender kisses to he given; 

Nonicknaraes, "Dove" and "Mouse"; 

No merry frolics after tea, — 
No baby in the house I 

Clara DoUiter [iS 


FMm"Tlie Mother's Idol Broken" 

Its little life unfurled; 
And crown of all things was our Wee' 
White Rose of all the worid. ■ _ 

From out a balmy bosom 

Our bud of beauty grew; 
It fed on smiles for sunshine. 

On tears for daintier dew: 
Aye nestling warm and tenderly, 

Our leaves of love were curled 
So dose and dose about our wee': 

White Rose of all the wod(L 

With mystical (aint fragrance ■ 

Our house of life f4ie filled; 
Revealed each hour some fairy tower 

Where winged hopes might buUd! 
We s&w— though none like us might si 

Such predous i»omise pearled 
Upon the petals of our woe 

White Rose of all the world. : 

But evermore the halo 

Of angel-light incrdasod. 
Like the myatety of mdonii^t ' 

That f(dds«oine fairy ieaat. 

p hyGoogle 

■J/ 1, 

"Baby SUeps" 

Snow-white, stiofi'-sMt, Mi^-silently 

Oarditflrtgbiid'tmcurled, ' 
And dropped in the gtave— God's lapi-om wee 

White Rose of all the world. 

Our Rose was but in blossom, 
Our life was but in i^nog, 

Vou scarce cauM tfainli so smail a Chin{(/ 

Could leave a loGS so loige; , -.' ■ 
HcT tittle ii^isach shadow flibg . li 

From dawn to suoaei's imaige. ' .. 
Id ethei springs onr life may be i '< 

In bamiCEed bloom- unfiuied, ■ ; . . 
But ntveTi'never match our wee . 

White'Roieof'aUthe^wbikl. ' 


ISTO the worJd he looked nith sWert sutpiise; 
The children laughed so vheo they saw Hii'eyes. 

Into the world a rosy hand in doubt 

He reachsd— 'a (lale hand took one rosebud out. 

"And thfttw^s all-r^iuite all!" J4o,.sure|}(! But 
Hm duldrw^iied so when h^ eyes n-er^ sfiut. 

SaraJlil..B. Piatt [t.Si6- 

"BABV SLEEPS",",'.',',; 

SJu h M iiail,,tul iletttlk.—LoMX v'lS. ji.^ ( 

■ The baby wept; ' ■ !'" 
The mother took It from the. nurse's arms/ 
And hushed its fears, dnd soothed its rain alarms, 
■And baby slept ! ■ . ■■■!.' 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Agaia it weeps, 
And God doth take it from the mother's arms, 
Ftoid present griefs, and future unknown barms, 

And baby sleeps. 

Samuel Hinds (1703-187: 


Have you not heard the poets tell 

How came the dainty Baby Bell 

Into this world of ours? 

The gates of heaven were left ajar: 

With folded hands and dreamy eyes. 

Wandering out of Paradise, 

She saw this planet, Uke a star, 

Hung in the glistening depths of evfin — 

Its bridges, running to and fro. 

O'er which the white-winged Angels go. 

Bearing the holy Dead to heaven. 

She touched a bridge of Bowers — thoae feet. 

So light they did not bend the beila 

Of the celestial asphodels, 

They fell like dew upon the flowers: 

Then all the air grew strangely sweet. 

And thus came dainty Baby Bell 

Into this world of ours. 

, She came and brought deUcious May; 
The swallows built beneath the eaves; 
Like sunlight, in and out the leaves 
The robins went, the livelong day; 
The lily swung ils noiseless bell; 
And on the porch the slender vine 
Held out its cups of fairy wine. 
How tenderly the twilights fdll 
Oh, earth was full of singing-birds 
And opening springtide flowers. 
When the damty Baby Bell ./ 

Came to this world of ouis. 


Baby Bel[ 

O Baby, dainty Baby B?U, 
How fair sht grew from day to day! 
What woman-natuTe filled her eyes. 
What poetry within them lay — 
Those deep and tender twilight eyes, 
So full of meantr^;, pure and bright ; 

As if she yet stood in the light 
Of those oped gates of Paradise. 
And so we loved her more and more: 
Ah, never in our hearts before 
Was love so lovely bom: 
We felt we had a link between 
This real wotld and that unseen— 
The laud beyond the mom; 
And for tJie love of those dear eyea, 
For love of her whom God led forth, 
(The mother's being ceased on earth 
When Baby came from Paradise,) — 
For love of Him who smote our lives, 
And woke the chords of joy and pain. 
We said, Dear Christ I—nui hearts bowed down 
Like violets after rain. 
And now the orchards, which were white 
And pink with blossoms when she came. 
Were rich in autumn's mellow prime; 
The clustered apples burnt like flame. 
The folded chestnut burst its sheU, 
The grapes hung purpling, range on range; 
And time wrought just as rich a change 
In litUe Baby Bell. 
Her lissome form more perfect grew. 
And in her features we could trace. 
In softened curves, her mother's face. 
Her angel-nature ripened too: 
We thought her lovely when she came, 
But she was holy, saintly now ... 
Around her pale angelic brow 
We saw a slender ring of flame. 

p hyGoogle 

Poems of Youth and Age 

God's hand had taken away the seal 
That held the portals of her speech; 
And oft she said a few strange words 
Whose meaning lay beyond out reach. 
She never was a child to us, 
We never held her being's key; 
We could not leach her holy tbinge 
Whci was Christ's self in purity. 

It came upon us by degrees, 

We saw its shadow ere ft fell— 

The knowledge that our God had sent 

His messenger for BaJbr Bell. 

We shuddered with uidanguaged pain, 

And all our hopes were changed to fears, 

And ail our thoughts ran into tear* 

Like sunshine into tain. > 

We cried aloud in our belief, 

"Oh, smite us gently, gently, Godl 

Teach us to bend and kiss the rod, 

And perfect grow through grief." 

Ah! how we loved her, God can tell; 

Her heart was folded deep in oure. 

Our hearts are broken, Baby flell! 

Out of this world oi ours. , . , i 


IN the: NtmsEHY" 


Mistress Marx, ((uite cqntraiy, 
How ^oesyofu^ garden, ffowf ,, ^ , 
With cockJe-sheUs, and silver bell^, ,. 
And pretty maids all in a row. 

These was an old woman wftojiv^^jn a e^oe^ . ./ 
Sbe had 9> niaSy childrdn sliif didn't luuiw ^tiat,[ti> do; 
She gave them some broth wittout any brpad^ , \i 
Then whipped them all stmBdlyamd put theB>,.U4,bpd. 

Fetek, Petet, pumpkin eater, 
Had ft wife and couldn't 'k«<^ her; - 
He put ber in ft pumpkin shoU > 
And tkere be kept her ToywclL 

RuB-a-duB-dub, ' . ' 

Three men in a tuli, 
And who do you think they be? 

The butcher, the baker, 

The candleMidE-maker; 
Turn 'emotft, ki)avc3,a|l three! 

I'll tell you a etory , 

About Jack a Nory— 
Ahit now m^ stary'B begua; - 

Hi tell-you another .- • . 

About Johnny, his tnotbn^-' 
And TOW my story it. done. . i 


Poems of Youth and Age 

HlCKOBY, diekory, dock, 

The mouse ran up the clock; 

The dock struck one, 

The mouse ran down, 

Hickory, dJckory, dock. 

A DU.LAK, a dollar, 

A ten o'clock scholar, 

What makes you come so soon? 

You used to come at ten o'clock 

But now you come at noon. 

There was a little man, 

And he had a little gun. 
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, load; 

He shot Johnny Sprig 

Throu^ the middle of his wig, 
And knocked it right off his head, head, head. 

There was an old woman, and what do you think? 
She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink: 
Victuals and drink were the chief of ker diet: 
Yet this little old woman could never be quiet. 

She went to a baker to buy her some bread, 
And when she came home, her husband was dead; 
She went to the clerk to toll the bell. 
And when she came back her husband was well. 

If I had as much money as I could spefid, 
I never would cry old chairs to mend; 
Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend; 
I never would cry old chairs to mend. 

If I had as much money as I could Deli; 
I never would cry old clothes to seU; 
Old clothes to sdl, old dotbes to aell; 
I never would cry old dothes to sdl. 


Mother Goose's Melodies 

One misty, mobty morniiig, 

WhcD doudy was the weather, 
I met a little old man 

Clothed all in leather; 
He began to bow and scrape, 

And I began to grin, — 
How do you do, and how do you do, 

And how do you do again? 

If all the world were apple-pie, 

And all the sea were ink. 

And all the trees were bread and cheese. 

What should we have to drink? 

Pease-pudding hot. 

Pease-pudding cold. 
Pease-pudding in the pot. 

Nine days old. 

Some like it hot, 

Some like it cold. 
Some Eke it in the pot. 

Nine days old. 

Hey, diddle, diddle, 
The cat and the fiddle. 
The cow jumped over the moon; 

The little dog laughed 
To sec such sport, 
And the dish ran away with the spoon. 

Little Jack Homer sat in the comer 

Eating a Cfaristmas pie; 
He put in his thumb, and pulled out a phim 

And said, "Whst a good boy am II" 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Little Miss Muffet, 

Sat on a tufiet, 
Eating oi curds and whey; 

There came a great spider 

That sat down beside her, 
And frightened Miss Muffet away. 

There was a cnmked man, and he went a crooked mile. 
He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile: 
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse. 
And they all lived together in a little crooked house. 

Little Polly Flinders, 

Sat among the cinders, 
Warming her pretty little toes; 

Her mother came and caught her, 

And whipped her little daughter 
For spoiling her nice new clothes. 

Basber, barber, shave a pig. 
How many hairs will make a wig? 
" Four-and-twenty, that's enough." 
Give the barber a pinch of anuff. 

Little Boy Blue, come blow up your hom, 
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the com; 
But where is the boy that looks after the sheep? 
He's under a hay-cock, fast asleep. 
Will you awake him? No, not I; 
For if I do, hell be sure to cry. 

Theke was a man of our town, * 
And he was wondrous wise, 

He jumped into a bramble bu^, 
And sciatcbed out both his eyes: 

p-hy Google 

Mother GooSfe's MHbdies' jj 

But when he saw his eyes were out, 

With all his might and main, 
He jumped into another bush, 

And scratched 'em in again. 

The north wind doth blow. 
And we shall have snow, 
And what will poor Robin do then, 
Poor thing? 
He'll sit in a bam, 
And to keep himself warm. 
Will hide his head under his wing, 
Poor thing! 

HiGGLEBY, piggleby, my black hen. 
She lays eggs for gentlemen; 
Someltmes nine, and sometimes ten, 
Higgleby, piggleby, my black hen. 

TiTREE wise men of Gotham 
Went to sea in a bowl; 
If the bowl had been stronger, 
My song had been longer. 

There was an old woman lived under a hiH, 
And if she's not gone, she lives there still. 

Pussv-CAT, pussy-cat, where have you been? 
I've been to London to look at the Queen. 
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there? 
I fri^tened a little mouse under the chair. 

There were two blackbirds sitting on a hill, ' 
The one named Jack, the other named Jill; 
Fly away, Jack! Fly away, ^1! 
Come again, Jack! Come again, Jill! 


3^ Poems of Youth and Age 

GOOSEV, goosey, gander, 

Whithci shall I wander. 

Up stairs, down stairs, 

And in my lady's chamber. 

There I met an old man 

Who wouid not say his prayers; 

I took him by his left leg 

And threw him down the stairs. 

Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wocd? 

Yes, sir; yes, sir, three bags full. 

One tor my master, one (or my dame, 

And one for the little boy that lives in the lane. 

Bye, baby bunting. 
Daddy's gone a-hunting 
To get a little rabbit-skin 
To wrap the baby bunting in. 

Old King Cole ul, 

And a merry ol 

He called for hi kI for his bowl. 

And he called 1 c. 

Every fiddler, 1^ a very fine fiddle had he; 

Twee twccdle dee, tweedle dec, went the fiddlers. 

Oh, there's none so rare, as can compare 

With King Cole and his fiddlers three! 

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, 
To see a fine lady ride on a white horse, 
Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes, 
She shall have music wherever she goes. 

Hector Protector was dressed all in green; 
Hector Protector was sent to the Queen. 
The Queen did not like him, no more did the King; 
So Hector Protector was sent back again. 


Mother Goose's Melodies 37 

Peter Piper picked a. pock of piiUed pqipen; 

A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked; 

If Peter Kper picked a peck of pickled peppers, 

Wkere's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Pipa picked? 

Jack Sfsax could eat no fat. 

His wife could eat no lean, 
And so, betwixt them both, you see. 

They licked the platter clean. 

The lion and the utucorn 

Were fighting for the crown; 
The lion beat the unicorn 

All round about the town. 
Some gave them white bread. 

And some gave them brown; . 
Some gave them plum cake, 

And sent them wit of town. 

As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks 
Were walking out one Sunday, 

Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks, 
"To-morrow will be Monday." 

CtffiLY locks! Cuily locksl 

Wilt thou he mine? 
Thou Shalt not wash dishes 
• Not yet feed tie swin«; 
But Mt on a cnshlon 

And sew a fine seam, 
And feed upon strawberries. 

Sugar and cream. 

Blow, wind, Uovl and-ga, mill, go! 

That the miller may grind' Ins corn; 
That tlie bakei may lake it and into roUs make it, 

And Bend US looie hot in the mora. 

p-hy Google 

38 Poems of Youth and Age 

Six little mke sat down to spin, 
Pussy passed by, and she peeped in. 
" What are you at, my little men? " 
"Maldtig coats for gentlemen." 
"Shalllcomeinandbiteoff your threads?" 
"No, no. Miss Pussy, you'll snip off our heads." 
"Oh, no, I'll not, I'll help you to spin." 
"That may be so, but you don't comeinl" 

Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea, 
Silver buckles at his knee; 
When he comes back, he'll marry me, 
Bonny Bobby Shaftoe. 

Bobby Shaftoe 's fat and fair. 
Combing down his yellow hair; 
He's my love for evermair, 
Bonny Bobby Shaftoe. 

RocK-A-BYE, baby, thy cradle is green; 

Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen; 

And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring; 

And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the King. 

Hush-a-byc, baby, on the tree-top, 
When tlic wind blowa the cradle will rock; 
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, 
Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all. 

To market, to market, to buy a fat pig, 
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig; 
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog. 
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog; 
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun, 
Home again, home again, market is dqnei 


Little Bo-peep 


Jack and Jill went up the hill, 

To fetch a pail of water; 
Jack foU dowD and broke his down 

And Jill came tumbling after. 

Up Jack got and home did trot 
As last as he could caper, 

And wait to bed to mend his head 
With vinc^r and brown paper. 


The Queen of Hearts 

She made some larts, 
All on a summer's day; 

The Knave of Hearts 

He stde those tarts. 
And with them ran away. 

TTie King of Hearts 

Called for the tarts, 
And beat the Knave full sore; 

The Knave of Hearts 

Brought back the tarts, 
And vowed he'd steal no more! 


Lims Bo-peep has lost her sheep, 
And can't tell where to find them; 

Leave them alone, and they'll come home, 
And bring their tails behind them. 

LittJe Bo-peep fell fast asleep, 

And dreatned she heard tbem bleating; 
But when she awdce, she found it a joke, 

For thfly were still 'a-Oeetiog. ■ . 

p:hy Google 

o Poems of Youth and Age 

Then up she took her little ciook, 

Determined for to find Hiem; 
She found them indeed, but it made ber heart bleed, 

For they'd left their taik behind them! 

It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray. 

Unto a meadow hard by, 
There she espied their tails side by side, 

All hung on a tree to dry. 

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her ^e. 

And over the hillocks she raced; 
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should, 

That each tail should be properly placed. 


Makv had a little lamb, 
Its fleece was white as snow; 

And everywhere that Mary went. 
The lamb wns sure to go. 

He followed her to school one day, 
Which was against the rule; 

It made the children bugh and play 
To see a lamb at school. 

And so the teacher turned him out. 

But still he lingered near. 
And waited patiently about 

Till Mary did appear. 

Then he ran to her, and laid 

His head upon her arm, 
As if he said, " I'm not afraid — 

You'U keep me from all harm." 

"What makes the lamb love Mary so?" 

The eager children cried. 
"Oh, Mary loves the lamb, you know," 

The teacher quick replied. 


*' Sing a Song of Sixpence " 

And you each gentle amimal 

In confidence may bind. 
And make them follow at your mQ, 

If you are only kind. 


TwDJKii, twinlde, little star, 
How I wonder what you are. 
Up above the world so high. 
Like a diamond in the sky. 

When the blazing sun is set, 
And the grass with dew is wet, 
Then you show your little light, 
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 

Then the traveler in the dark 
Thanks you for your tiny spark. 
He could not see where to go 
If you did not twinkle so. 

In the datk blue sky you keep, 
And often' through my curtains peep) 

For you never diut your eye 
Till the sun is in the sky. 

As your bright and tiny spark 
Lights the traveler in the dark, 
Though I know not what you are, 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star. 

Jaiu Taylor [1783-1814! 


Sing a song of sixpence, 

A pocket full of rye; 
Four-and-twenty blackbirds 

Baked in a pie; 


Poems of Youth and Age 

When the pie was opened 

The birds began to sing; 
Wasn't that a dainty dish ' 

To set before the King? 

The King was in his counting-house, 

Counting out his money; 
The Queen was in the parlor, 

Eating bread and honey; 

The maid was in the garden 

Hanging out the dotlies; 
When down came a blackbird. 

And nipped oS her nose. 


Simple Simon met a pieman 

Going to the fair; 
Says Simple Sunon to the pieman, 

"Let me taste your ware." 

Says the pieman to Simple Simon, 
"Show me first your penny"; 

Says Simple Simon to the pieman. 
"Indeed I have not any." 

Simple Simon went a-hshing 

For to catch a whale; 
All the water he had got 

Was in his mother's pail. 

Simple Simon went to look 
It plums grew on a thistle; 

He pricked his fingers very much, 
Which made poor Simon whistle. 


At five o'clock he milks the cow, 

The busy farmer's man. 
At six o'clock he strains the milk 

And pours it in the can. 


"When I Was^a Bachelor" 

At seven o'ctod tlie millanas's hAtSe 

Must go to town— "get upl" 
At eight o'clock Nurse Karea pours 

The milk in Baby's cup. 
At five o'clock the Baby sleeps 

As sound as sound can be. 
At six o'clock he l&ugbs and shouts^ 

So wide awake is he. 
At seven o'clock he's in his bath. 

At eight o'clock he's dressed, 
Just when the milk is ready, too, 

S'> you can guess the Test. 

StmUie eajdswn [r8s3- 

I HAD a little husband 

No bigger than my thumb; 
I put him in a pint pot, 

And there I bade him drum. 

I bought a little horse, 
l^t galloped up and down; 

I bridled him and saddled him. 
And sent him out of town. 

I gave him some garters. 

To garter up his hose, 
And a little handkerchief. 

To wipe his pretty nose. 

When 1 was a bachelor 

I lived by myself; 
And all the bread and cheese I got 

1 put upon the shelf. 

The mtB and the mice 

They made such a strife, , / 

I was forced to go to London 

To buy me a wife. 


44 Poems of Youth and Age 

The streets were so bad, 
And the lanes were so oanow, 

I was forced to bring my wife home 
In a wheelbarrow. 

The whedbaiTow broke, 

And my wife had a fallj 
Down came wheelbarrow. 

Little wife and all. - , 


Johnny shall have a new bonnet. 

And Johnny shall go to the f^. 

And Johnny ^all have a blue ribbon 

To tie up his bonny brown hair. 

And why may not I love Johnny, 

And why may not Johnny love me? 
And why may not I love Johnny 
As well as another body? 

And here's a leg (or a stocking, 

And here's a foot for a shoe; 
And he has a kiss for his daddy, 

And one for his mammy, too. 

And why may not 1 love Johnny, 
And why may not Johnny love me? 

And why may not I love Johnny, 
As well as another body? 


The city mouse lives in a house;— 
The garden mouse lives in a bower, 

He's friendly with the frogs and toads. 
And sees the pretty plants in flower. 

The city mouse eats bread and cheese;— 
The garden mouse eats what he can; 

We will not grudge him seeds and stocks. 
Poor little timid furry man. 

CMslina Geergina Sosselli [iSjo-iSml 

p:hy Google 

" Merry ire the Bdls " 


LnTLE Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree. 

Up went pussy-cat, and down went he; 

Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran; 

Said little Robin Redbreast, " Catch me if you can." 

liltle Robin Redbreast j'nmped upon a wall, 

Pussy-cat jumped after hiiti, and almost got a fall; 

Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say? 

Pussy-cat said naught but "Mew," and Robin flew away. 


Solomon GruDt^, 
Bom on a Monday, 
Christened on Tuesday, 
Married on Wednesday, 
Took, ill on TTiursday, 
Worse on Friday, 
Died on Saturday, 
Buried on Sunday, 
This is the end of 
Solomon Grundy. 

MenRY are the bells, and merry would they rii^. 
Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; 
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free. 
And a merry ^ng-song, happy let us be! ' 

Waddle goes youc gait, and hollow are your boee: 
Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose: 
Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free; 
With a merry ding-dong, lu^py let us be I 

Merry have we met, and merry have we been; 
Merry let us part, and merry meet again; 
With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, 
With a merry ding-dong, happy let us bet 


Poems of Youth and Age 

When good King Arthur ruled this land, 

He was a goodly king; 
He stole three pecks of barley meal, 

To make a bag-pudding. 

A bag-puddJDg the queen, did make, 

And stuffed it well with plums: 
And in it put great lumps of fat, 

As big as my two thumbs. 

Hie king and queen did eat thereof, 

And noblemen beside; 
And what they could not eat that night, 

The queen next morning fried. 

I HAD a little Doggy that used to sit and beg; 
But Doggy tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg. 
Oh! Doggy, I will nuree you, and try to make you well. 
And you shall have a collar with a little silver bell. 

Ah! Doggy, don't you think that you should very faith- 
ful be, 
For having such a loving friend to comfort you as me? 
And when your leg is better, and you can run and play, 
Well have a scamper in the fields and see them making hay. 

But, Doggy, you must promise (and mind your word you 

Not once to tease the little lambs, or run among the sheep; 
And then the little yellow chicks that play upon the grass. 
You must not even wag your tail to scare than as you pass. 

A PAKiiER went trotting upon his gray mare; 
Bumpety, bumpety, bump! 
With his daughter behind him, so rosy and iali; 
Lumpety, lumpety, lumpl 


The Cow ♦: 

A raven cried croaJt! and they all tumbled down; 
Bumpety, bumpety, bump! 

The mare broke her kneea, ajid the farmer his crown; 
Lumpety, lumpety, lump I 

The mischievous raven Rtv laughing away; 
Bumpety, bumpety, bump! 

And vowed he would serve them the same the next day; 
Lumpety, lumpety, lump! 

PAN " 

The owl and the ed and the waiming-paii, 

They went to call on the loap-fat man. 

the soap-fat man he was not within: 

He'd gone for a ride on hb rolling-fHn. 

So they all came back by the way of the town. 

And turned the meeting-house upside down. 

Laura E. Siehardt I1850- 


Thank you, pretty cow, that made 
Pleasant milk to soak my bread. 
Every day, and every night, 
Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white. 

Do not chew the hemlock rank, 
Growing on the weedy bank; 
But the yellow cowslips eat, 
They will make it very sweet. 

Where the purple violet grows. 
Where the bubbling water flows. 
Where the grass is fresh and fine, 
Pretty cow, go there and diiw. 

Aim Taylor [1781 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 


LmLE Lamb, who made thee? 
Dost thou know who made thee, 
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed 
By the stream and o'er the mead; 
Gave thee clothing o[ delight, 
Softest clothing, wooEy, bright; 
Gave thee such a tender voice. 
Making all the vales rejoice? 

Little Lamb, vho made thee? 

Dost thou know who made thee? 

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee. 
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee; 
He is callM by thy name, 
For He calls Himself a Lamb. 
He is meek, and He is Doild; 
He became a little child. 
I a child, and thou a lamb, 
We are called by His name. 

Little Lamb, God bless thee! 

Little Lamb, God bless thee. 

WiUi<tm Blake [17S7-1S17] 


On, where do you come from, 

You little drops of rain. 
Fitter patter, pitter patter, 

Down the window-pane? 

They won't let me walk. 

And they won't let me play, 
And they won't let me go 

Out of doors at all to-day. 

They put away my playthings 

Because I broke them all. 
And then they locked up all my bricks, 

And took away my ball. 


The House that Jack Built 49 

Tell me, little raindiopB, 

Is that the way you pky, 
Ktter pattet, pitter patter. 

All the rainy day? 

They say I'm very naughty. 

But I've nothing else to do 
But sit here at the window; 

I should like to play with you. 

The tittle raindrops cannot speak. 

But "pitter, patter pat" 
Means, "We can play on this side: 

Why can't you play on that? " 


Moon, so round and yellow. 

Looking from on high, 
How I love to see you 

Shining in the sky. 
Oft and oft I wonder, 

When I see you there. 
How they get to light you, 

Hanging in the air: 

Where you go at morning. 

When the night is past. 
And the sun comes peeping 

O'er the hills at last. 
Sometime I will watch you 

Slyly overhead, 
When you think I'm sleeping 

Snugly in my bed. 

Matthias Barrliiit- 


This is the house that Jack built. 

This is the maK 
That lay in the house that Jack built. 

p:hy Google 

Potms o£ Youth and Age 

This is the lat 
That ate the malt 
lliat lay in the house that Jack buUt. 

Thb is (be cat 
That killed the rat 
That ate the malt 
Tliat lay in the bouse that Jack built. 

This is the dog 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
That lay in the house that Jack built. 
This is the cow with the crumpled horn 

That tossed the dog 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
That lay in the house that Jack built. 

This is the maiden all forlorn 

That milked the cow with the crumpled hom 

That tossed the dog 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
That lay in the house that Jack built. 

This is the man all Uttered and torn 

Tiiat kissed the maiden all forlorn 

That milked the cow with the crumpled hom 

That tossed the dog 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
That lay in the house that Jack built. 

This is the priest all shaven and shorn 
That married the man all tattered and torn 
That kissed the maiden all foriorn 
That milked the cow with the crumpled hom 


Old Mother Hubbfird' 

That tossed the dog 
That worried the eat 
That kilfcd the rat 
That a,te the malt 
That lay in the house that Jack buUt. 

This b the cock that crowed in the moin 
That waked the pEket bH sbaveo aqd shorn 
That married the nuan all tattered and torn 
That kissed the maiden all forlorn 
lliat mifiied the cow with the crumpled horn 

That tossed the dog 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
That lay in the hotise tliat Jack built. 

This is the farmer sowing his com 

That kept the cock Chat crowed in the morn 

That waked the priest all shaven and shorn 

That married the man all tatt«red and torn 

That kissed the maiden all Eorlont , 

That milked the cow with the cnimpled horn 

That tossed the dog ' 

That worried the cat 

That killed the rat 

That ate the malt 
Hiat lay in the bouse that Jack built. 


Old Mother Hubbard 

Went to the cupboard, 
To get her poor dog a bone: 

But when she got there 

The cupboard was bare, 
And so the poor dog had. none. 

She vcDt to the baker's 

To buy him some br^ad, 
But tthra she came back 

The poor dog was dead. 

p-hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 

She went to the janer'a 

To buy him a coffin, 
But when she came back 

The poor dog was laughing. 

She took a dean dish 
To get him some tripe. 

But when she came back 
He was smoking a pipe. 

She went to the fishmonger's 
To buy him some fish, 

But when she came back 
He was licking the dish. 

She went to the tavern 

For white wine and red. 
But when she came back 

The dog stood on his head. 
She went to the hatter's 

To buy him a hat, 
But when she came back 

He was feeding the cat. 

She went to the barber's 

To buy him a wig, 
But when she came back 

He was dancing a jig. 

She went to the fniiterer'a 
To buy him some fruit, 

But when she came back 
He was playing the fiute. 

She went to the taikir's 

To buy him a coat. 
But when she came ba<± 

He was riding a goat. 

She went to the cobbler's 
To buy him some shoes, 

But when she came back 
He was reeding the news. 


The Death and Borisi)' of Cock Robin S3 

She went to the seumUtas 

To buy him some linen, 
Bnt when she came back 

The dog was spinning. 

She went to the hosier's 

To buy him some hose, 
But when she came back 

He was dressed in his clothes. 

The dame made a curtesy. 

The dog made a bow. 
The dame said, "Your servant," 

The dog said, "Bow-wow." 

This wondeHul dog 
Was Dame Hubbard's delight; 

He could sing, he could dance, 
He could read, he could write. 

She gave him rich dainties 

Whenever he fed, 
And built him a monumeilt 

When he was dead. 


Who kiUed Cock Robia? 
"I," said the Sparrow, 

"With my bow and arrow, 
I killed Cock Robin." 

Who saw him die? 

"I," said the Fly, 

" With my little eye, 
I saw him die." 

Who caught his blood? 

"I," said the Fish, 

"With my little dish, 
I caught his blood." 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Wbo'll make his shroud ? 

"I," said the Bee lie, 

"With my thread and nndle, 
I'll moke his shroud." 

Who'll dig his grave? 

"I," said the 0ml, 

"Withmyspadeandtrowd, . 
I'll dig his grave." 

Who'll be the parson? 

"1," said the Rook, 
"With my little book. 
I'll be the parson." 

Who'll be the clerk? 
■'I," said the Lark, 
"I'll say Amen in the dark; 

ni be the clerk." 

Who'll be chief mourner? 
"I," said the Dove, 
"I moum for my love; 

I'll be chief n 

Wholl bear the torch? 
"I," said tbelinoet, 
"I'll come in a minute, 

111 bear the torch." 

Who'U sing his dirge? 
"I," said the thrush, 
"As I sing in the bush 

m sing his dirge." 

Who'll bear the pall? 
"We," said the Wren, 
Both the Cock and tbe Hen; 

"We'll bear the paU." 

Who'll carry his coffin? 
"I," said the Kite, 
"If it be in the night, 

I'll cany his coffin." 


Baby-land - 

Who'U loU the beU? 
"I," said the Bull, 
"Because I can pull, 

m toU the beD." 

AH the birds of the air 

Fell to sighing and sobbing 
When they heard the beD toll 
For poor Cock Robin. 

"Wbich is the way to Baby-land?" 
"Any one can tell; 
Up one flight. 
To your right; 
Please to ring the belL" 

"What can you see in Baby-bnd?" 
"Little folks in white — 
Downy beads, 
Faces pure and bright! " 

"What do they do in Baby-land?" 
"Dream and wake and play, 

Laugh and crow, 

Shout and grow; 
Jglly times have theyl" 

"What do they say in Baby-land?" 

"Why, the oddest things; 

Might as well 

Try to -tell 
What a birdie sings!" 

"Who is the Queen of Baby-Jand?" 
"Mother, lund and sweet; 
And her love. 
Born above, 
Guides the little feet." 

GtoTge. Cooper ( 1 840- 


Poems of Youth and Age 


TBere once was a wood, and a very thick wood, 
So thick that to walk was as much as you could; 
But a sunbeam got in, and the trees understood. 

I went to this wood, at the end of the sdows, 

And as I was walking I saw a primrose; 

Only one! Shall I show you the place where it grows? 

There once was a house, and a very dark house, 

As dark, I believe, as the hole o( a mouse, 

Or a tree in my wood, at the thick of the boughs. 

I went to this house, and I searched it aright, 

I opened the chambers, and I found a light; 

Only one! Shall I show you this little lamp bright? 

There once was a cave, and this very dark cave 

One day took a gift from an incoming wave; 

And I made up my mind to know what the sea gave. 

I took a lit torch, I walked round the ness 
When the water was lowest; and in a recess 
In my cave was a jewel. Will nobody guess? 

there was a baby, he sat on my knee. 

With a pearl in his mouth that was precious to me. 
His tittle dark mouth like my cave of the seal 

1 said to my heart, "And my jewel is bright! 

He blooms like a primrose! He shines like a light!" 
Put your hand in his mouth! Do you feel? He can bite! 

William Brighty Rands [iSaj-iSSil 


Baby wants hb breakfast, 

Oh! what shall I do? 
Said the cow, "I'll give hitn 

Mice fresh milk — moo-i»>/" 


The Moon 

Said the hen, "Cut-<^ cutt 
I have kud an e^ 

For the Baby's breakfast- 
Take it Dov, I b^!" 

And the buz^g bee said, 

"Here is honey sweet. 
Don't you think the Baby 

Would Uhe that to eat?" 

Then the balcer kindly 

Brought the Baby's bread. 
"Breakfast is all ready," 

Baby's mother said; 

"But before the Baby 

Eats his <iainty food, 
Wai he not aay 'Thank youl' 

To his friends so good?" 

Then the lM>nny Baby 

Laughed and laughed away. i 

That ivas all the "Thank you" 

He knew how to say. 

Emilie Potilssoit tiS53> 


O, LOOK at the moon I 

She is shining up there; 
O mother, she looks 
Like a lamp in the air. 

Last week she was smaller. 
And shaped like a bow; 

But now she's grown bigger, 
And round as an 0. 

Pretty moon, pretty moon, 
How you ^ine on the door, 

And make it all bright 
On my nursery floor I 


Poems of Youth and Age 

You shine on my playthiog^t 

And show me their p\a£0, 
And I love to krak up 

At your pretty bright face. 

And there is a star 

Close by you, and maybe 
That small twinkling star 

Is your little baby. 

Eliza La Fatten I1787-18J5I 

Brow bender, Eye peeper, 
Nose smeller. Mouth eater. 
Chin chopper, 

Knock at the door— peep in, 
Lift up the latch — ^walk in.^ 

Hebe mIs the Lord Mayor, here sit his two men. 
Here sits the cock, and here sits the hen; 
Here sit the chickens, and here they, 
Chippety, chippety, chippety, chin. 

This little pig went to market; 

This litUe pig stayed at home; 

This little pig got roast beef; 

This little pig got none; 

This little pig cried wee, wee, all the way home. 

One, two. 
Buckle my shoe; 

Three, four. 

Shut the door; 

Five, six, 

Pick up sticks; 

Seven, eight, 

Lay them straight; 

Nine, ten, 

A good fat hen; 

Eleven, twdve. 

Who will delve? 


Foot Soldiers 

Thirteen, fourteen, 
Maids a-cowting; 
Fifteen, sixteen. 
Maids a-kissing; 
Seventeen, eighteen. 
Maids a-waiting; 
Nineteen, twenty. 
My stomach's anpty. 


&<»T fingers, 

Ten toes, 
Two eyes. 

And one nose. 

Laura E. Richards (1850- 

"Tis all the way to Toe-town, 

Beyond the Knee-high hill. 
That Baby has to travel down 

To see the soldiers drill. 

Om, two, three, four, five, arrow— 

A captain obd tua men — 
And OD the other adt, you know, 

Arc MS, seven, eight, nine, ten. 

JefmBanisUr Tabb (i845-i9«ol 


Poems of Youth and Age 


A WAS an Archer, who shot at a frog; 
B was a Butcher, who had a great dog; 
C was a Captain, all covered with lace; 
D was a Drunkard, and had a red face; 
£ was an Esquire; with pride on his brow; 
F was a Fanner, and followed the plow; 
G was a Gamester, who had but ill luck; 
H was a Hunter, who hunted a buck; 
I was an Innkeeper, who loved to bouse; 
J was a Joiner, who built up a house; 
K was a King, so mighty and grand; 
L was a Lady, who had a white hand ; 
M was a Miser, and hoarded his gold; 
N was a Nobleman, gallant and bold; 
was an Oysterman, who went about town; 
P was a Parson, and wore a black gown; 
Q was a Quack, with a wonderful pill; 
R was a Robber, who wanted to kill; 
S was a Sailor, who spent all he got; 
T was a Tinker, and mended a pot; 
U was an Usurer, a miserable elf; 
V was a Vintner, who drank all himself; 
W was a Watchman, who guarded the door; 
X was Expensive, and so became poor? 
y was a Youth, that did not bvc school; 
Z was a Zany, a poor harmless fooh 


Three little words, you often see. 

Are articles A, An, and The. 

A Noun is the name of anything, 

As School, or Garden, Hoop, or Swing. 

Adjectives tell the kind of Noun, 

As Great, Small, Pretty, White, or Brown. 

Instead of Nouns the Pronouns stand. 

Her head. His face, Your arm, My hand. 


The Garden Year 

Verbs tell of something being dime — 
To Read, Count, Laugh, Sing, Jump, or Ri 
How things are done the Adverbs tell, 
As Slowly, Quidcly, HI, or Well. 
Conjunctions join the words together — 
As men And women, wind And weather, 
The Preposition stands before 
A noun, as In or Through tt door, 
The Inteijection shows surprise, 
As Oh! bow pretty! M! how wise! 
The Whole are called nine parts of speech, 
Which reading, writing, speaking teach. 


TtaBTV days hath September, 
April, June, and November; 
All the rest have thirty-one; 
February twenty-eight alone, — 
Except in leap year, at which time 
February's days are twenty-nine. 


January brings the snow, 
Makes our feet and fingers glow. 

February brings the rain. 
Thaws the frozen lake again. 

March brings breezes, loud and shrill. 
To stir the dancing daffodil. 

April brings the primrose sweet. 
Scatters dabies at oui feet 

May brings flocks of pretty lambs 
Skipping by their fleecy dams. 

June brings tulips, lilies, roses. 

Fills the childrra's hands with posies. 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Hot July brings cooling showers, 
Apricots, and gillyflowers. 

August brings the sheaves of aan, 

Then the harvest home is bome. 

Warm September brings the fruit; 
Sportsmen then begin to shoot. 

Fresh October brings the pheasant; 
Then to gather nuts is pleasant. 

Dull November brings the blast; 
Then the leaves are whirling fast. 

Chill December brings the sleet. 
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat. 

Sara Cahridge Ii8oi-i8si) 


There was a girt in our town, 

Silk an' satin was her gown, 

Silk an' satin, gold an' velvet, 

Guess her name, three times I've telled it. (Ann.) 

As soft as silk, as white as milk, 

As bitter as gall, a thick green wall, 

And a green coat covers me all. (A walnut.) 

Make three fourths of a cross. 

And a circle complete; 
And let two semicircles 

On a perpendicular meet; 
Next add a triangle 

That stands on two feet; 
Next two semidrcles. 

And a circle ramiJete. (TOBACCtt) 

Flour of Eof^d, fruit of Spain, 
Met together in a shower of rain; 
Put in a bag tied round with a string, 
If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a ring. 
(A phim-pudding.) 


Riddles 63 

In marUe walls as white as milk, 

Lined with a skin as soft as alk, 

Within a founlain crystal dear, 

A gDlden appk doth a^iear. 

No doois there are to this stronghold, 

Yet thieves break in and steal the gold. (An egg.) 

Little Nanny Etticoat, 

In a white petticoat, 

And a red nose; 

TTie longer she stands, 

The shorter she grows. (A candle.) 

Long legs, crooked thighs, 

little head and no eyes. (A pair of tongs.) 

Thirty white horses upon a. red hill, 
Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand stfll, 
(The teeth.) 
Fonned long ago, yet made to-day. 

Employed while others sleep; 
What few would like to give away, 

Nor any wish to keep. (A bed.) 

Lives in winter, 
Dies in summer. 
And grows with its root upwards. (An icicle.) ' 

Hiiabeth, Lizzy, Betsy and Bess, 
All went together to seek a bird's nest; 
They found a nest with five eggs in it; 
They each took one and left four in it. 

Thomas a Tattamus took two T's, 

To tie two tups to two tall trees, 

To fri^ten the terrible Thomas a Tattamus! 

Tell me how many T's there are in all THATl 

Old Mother Twitchett had but one eye. 

And a long tail which she let fly; 

.\nd every time she went over a gap. 

She left a bit of ber tail in a trap. (A rkeedle and thread.) 

p:hy Google 

64 Poems of Youth and Age 

As I went through a garden gap. 

Who should I meet but Dick Red-C^! 

A stick in his hand, a stone in his throat, 

If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a groat. 

Humpty Dympty sat on a wall, 
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall ; 
All the king's horses and at! the king's men 
Cannot put Humpty Dumpty together again. (An egg.) 

As I was going to St, Ives, 
I met a man with seven wives, 
Every wife had seven sacks, 
Every sack had seven cats, 
Every cat had seven kits- 
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, 
Ho-v many were going to St. Ives? (One.) 

Two legs sat upon three legs, 
With one leg in his lap; 
In comes four legs 
And runs away with one leg; 
Up jumps two legs, 
Catches up three legs, 
Throws it after four legs, 
And makes him drop one leg. 

(A man, a stool, a leg of mutton, and a dog.) 


If wishes were horses. 

Beggars would ride; 
If turnips were watches, 

I'd wear one by my side. 

A MAN ot words, and not of deeds, 

Is like a garden full of weeds; 
For when the weeds begin to grow, 
Then doth the garden overflow. 




He that yrould thrive . j ;, .;■■■■■' 

Mu9t rise at fiv«; . , r. ■! 

He that-bath thriven 

MayfietitittYcii; ' .. -, -•■ ' 

And be that byfim plaugli w4^Mld tbrjye^ i 
HoBaeUoiust father hol4.'Oi^;drive. ,. ' 

A SWARM of bees in May 

b worth a load of hay; 

A swarm of bees in June 

Is worth a silver spoon; - / 

A swaim of bees in July 

Is not worth a fly. 

They that wash on Monday 
Have all the week to dry; 

Needies and pins, needles and pJnS,' ' ■ 
When a man miarries, his troubtu begins. 

Foe every evil lihdei' the Bim. . 
There is a retn^, or there Ss none. 
If there be pnci try and &ad iti 
If there be none, never miofl iti 

Tommy's tears, and Mary's fears, 
Will mate ^em oldbatere tlj^ir years. 

Ip "ifs"and ^'aoflsf i i ;. -. 

Were peti end luaifc,: "- ' ' .' 

There would be-no inaediortihksnti': 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Yoaril and Age 

Fob want of a nail, the stuH was test; ' i 1 1 
For want of the shoe, the horse was ioat; : 
For want of the horse, the rider was Mt; ' 
For want of the rider, the battle 'Was ki9t;l 
Fw wdnt of Die bkttle, the klngaoiii was Id 
And all from the want of a koiwafebe oM. 


A svmaiti^ showw . -i 

Won't laat half aa how. . ■ / 

■ . -I 

Rain before seven, 

Fairfcy ^c^'™- ' 

The South wind brings wet itreather, ' ' 
The North wind wet and cold togbtiei^ 
The West wind always brings us nlA," '■ 
The East wind bWs h back again. ' ' 

Mabch winds and April sfioWcrs' ' ' 
Bring forth May floWcrs. ' 

Evening red and taomlng gray' ■ / 
Set the traveller on his way, ' 

. But eveoipg gray and morning red, ^^ 
.£rii% the rain upon hisbead. 

RADfBcnr at night 
Ib the sailor's delight; 
Rainbow at morning, 1 1 

S^ors, take warning. < 1 


See a pin and pick it up, ' " 
All the day you'll have good kick; > 
S^ a jm and lebit layv 
Bad luck you will have all day. 

p:hy Google 

Old Superstitions ( 

Cut your nails on Monday, cut them for news; 
Cut them on Tuesday, a pair of new shoes; 
Cut them on Wednesday, cut them for health; 
Cut them on Thursday, cut them for wealth; 
Cut them on Friday, cut them for woe; 
' C<iLtheinot$4t\irdai',a joUtneyyoil'li;io;[. ''I' 
Cut them on Sunday, you'll cut them for evil, 
For ftll the nejtt, week yfni'U ^Jj^l^y tji^/devH. 

Sneeze on a Monday, you sneeze for darigerj. 
Sneeze on a Tuesday, you'll kiss a stranger; ' 
Sneeze on a Wednesda_y, yoii sneeze for a letter; 
Sneeze on a Thursday' for somctfu'ng better;' 
Sneeze on a Friday, you shteze for sorrow; 
Sneeze on a Saturday, your swcelhearl to-morro'n 
Sneeze on a Sunday, your safely seek — 
The devil will have you the whole of the week. 

MoNDAV'schildls fair of face," ' ' '' ' ' '■ 
Tuesday's child is full of gradi. 
Wednesday 's child is fill! of -^oc, ' ' 

Thursday's child has far to go, '' 

Friday's child is loving and giving, 
Saturday's child works 'hard for its liVing," 
And a child that's born on thc'SabbalH'dity 
Is fair and wise and good and gay. ' ' ' ' ' 

p:hy Google 




Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night 

Sailed off in a wooden shoe, — 
Sailed on a river of crystaf light 

Into a sea of dew. 
"Wfiere are you going, and what do you wish?" 

The old moon laughed and sang a song. 

As they rocked in the wooden shoe; . , 

And the wind that sped them all night long 

Ruffied the waves of dew. 
The little stars were the herring fish 
That lived in thai beautiful sea — 
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish, — 
Never afeard are we!" 
So cried the stars to the fishermen three, 
And Nod. 

All night long their nets they threw 
To the stars in the twinkling foam, — 

Then down from the akies came the wooden shoe, 
Bringing the fishermen home; 

p:hy Google 

The Sugar-Plum Tree . 69 

Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed . ■ ' 

As if it could not'be; 
And some folk thought 'twas a dream tb^'d dreamed. I 
Of sailing that beautiful sea; / 

But I shall name you the tehermen three: ./ 

Wynken, ■ ' 

BIy liken, 
And Nod. 

Wynken aad Blynken aie tnto liule eyes* r' 

And Nod is a little head. 
And the wooden ^oe that sailed the glues 

Is a wee one's trundle-bed; 
So shut your eyes while Mother ^ngs , j 

Of wonderful sights that be, 
And you shall see the beautiful things 
As you rock in the miaty sea . . 

Where the old sbo« rocked the fisbennen three: — 
And Nod. 

Eitene Pidd [iSso-iSoj] 

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree? 

Tis a marvel of great renown! 
It bknma on the sboce of the Loltypop sea 

In the garden of 9iut-Eye Town; 
Hie fniit that it beam is ao wondrously sweet 

(As those who have tasted it say) 
That good little children have only to eat 

Of that fruit to be h^py neat d^. 

When you've got to the tree, you would have a hard time 

To capture the fruit which I sing; 
The tree is so tall that no person could climb 

To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing! 
Bnt up in that tree sits a chocolate cat, 

And a ^ngCrbread dog prowls below — 
And this is the way you contrive to get at 

Thoae sugar-plums tempting you so: 


ycf' Poeiai of Youth and Age 

You say but the word 'to that gingerbread dog . , ' 

And be barks wilb such terrible zest 
Thbt.thedbdt^]atece.t isat cmcealla^Og, .,> 

As her swelling proportioas attest. 
Aod the chocolate cat goes cavorting around ^ 

From this leafy limb unto that, ■, 

And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, lo the ground — 

Hurrah for that chocolate cati 

There are marshmdiows, gomdrops, and ptppttaant cattes. 

With stripings of scarlet or gold, . [ . 

And you carry avay of the treasure that rune, 

As much as your apron can hold! 
So come, little child, cuddle doser to me -. 

In your dainty white nightcap land gown, i' - 

And I'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree 

In the garden of Shut-Eye Town. 

Bigena FiM [i&sti-i^s] 


' When the Sleepy Man comes with the dust on his eyes, 

(Oh, weary, wy Deape, 6ft weao'l) 
He shuts up the earth, and he opens the skies. 

(So Iiush-a-by, weary my Dearie!) ' ''. ' ■ ' 

He smiles through his fingers, and shuts up tlwsuaf' '' :| 
{Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!) •' I 

The stars that he loves he lets out one by ionc ■-,'•. 

(So h«sh-a-by, weary my Dearief) 

He comes from the castlea'of Drowsy-lwy Tovmi , ■ ■ , 

. (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!) 
'At the touch of his hand the lired eyelids fall dowtu' ' 
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!) 

He comes with a munnur of dream in his wings;' 

(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)- ■• '■ 

And whispers of mermaids and wonderful ddngl. - ' 
{So hush-a-by, wearymy Dearie!) 


■ .AvMi-D'sdAyf Durkmess: :7 

Then the top is a burden, the bugle a bane; 

(Oh, weary, in>"liearie,'so weiry!) 
When one would be faring down. Dreaaj-a-way, Lane. 

{So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!) , 

When one would be wending in Lullaby Wheny, , '. 

(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!) 
To Sleepy Man 's Castle, by CoUfoBting Ferry- 

(So hush-arby, weary my Deajie!) 

Cbarla a. D. Rab»li (iS6o- ' 


See him in the comers hidin' Crae the licht. 
See him at the window gloomin' at the nicht; 
Turn up the gas Itcht, close the shutters a', 
An' Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa'. 

Awa.' ^re^^ti 

For A ' .' ,, . 

He comes when we're weary to wean's frac oor wacs,. 
He comes when the baimies are getting afl their claea; 
To cover them sae cosy, an' bring .boonie dteanis, 
So Auld Daddy Darkness is belter than he seems. 

Sleek yereen, my wee tot, ye '11 see Daddy then; 
He's in below the bed elaes, to cuddle ye he 's foia; 
Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill, . '' 
Till Wee Davie DayUchtcomcs keekin' owreiiie'hill. ' 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 


Wee Willie Winkie rins through the town, 

Upstairs and doon staira, in his nicht-gown, 

Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock, 

"Are the weans in their bed?— for it's noo ten o'dock." 

Hey, Willie Winkie I are ye comin' ben? 

The cat's singin' gay thrums to the deefan' hen. 

The dou^'s speldered on the door, and disna gie a cheep; 

But here's a waukrife laddie, that winna fa' asleep. 

Ouything but sleep, ye rogue! — glowrio' Uke the moon, 
Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spooD, 
Rumbiin', tumbltn' roun' about, crawin' like a cock, 
Skirlin' like a keona-what— wauknin' sleepin' folk! 

Hey, Willie Winkie! the wean's in a creel! 
Waumblin' alT a bodic's knee like a vera eel, 
Ruggin' at the cat's lug, and ravellin' a' her thrums; 
Hey, Willie Winkie!— See, there he comes! 

Willuim ifiUer [igto-iS?)) 

The rosy clouds float overhead, 

The sun b going down ; 
And now the sandman's gentle tread 

Comes stealing through the town. 
"White sand, \i^ite sand," he softly cries, 

And as he shakes his hand. 
Straightway there lies on babies' eyes 

His gift of shilling sand. 
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes, and brown, 
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he goes through 
the town. 

Fromtunny beachea far away — 

Yes, in another land — 
He gathets up at break of day 
1 His store of ■♦'■"■"g aand. 


The Duttman I 73 

No tempests beat that shore remote, '' 

No ships may sail that way; 
His little boat alone may float i 

Within that lovely bay. 
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes, and brown, 
.\s shuts the rose, they softly dose, when he goes Ihrough 
the town. 

He smiles to see the eyehds dose ' 

Above the happy eyes; 
And every diiW right wbll he kOons, — 

Oh, be is vary wise! I 

But if, as he goes through the land, 

A naughty baby cries, 
His other hand takes dull gray sand 

To dose the wakeful eyes. 
Blue eyes, gray ey«, black tyts, and bnywn, 
As shuts the rose, they softly dose, when he goes through 
the town. 

So when you heai the sandman^ song 

Sound through the twilight sweet, 
Be sure you do not keep him long i 

A-waiting in the stKet. 
Lie softly down, dear little heiid. 

Rest quiet, busy handa. 
Till, by your bed his good-oight said, : 

He strews the shining saoda. 
Blue eyes, gray eyes, bladi eyes, and brows,. 
As shuts the rose, they softly dose, when he goes thiougb 

the town. '' 

Mofgani ThaiKcn Jtnritr [Umifigti] 


Whek the toys are growmg woary, 
And the twilight gathers in; 

When the nursery still echoes' 
With the ddldren's merry dm; 


Poems of Yoilth ahd Age 

Then unseen, unheard, unnoticed 

Comes a.n old man up the stair, 
Lightly to the children passes, 

Lays his hand upon their hair. 

SofUy smiles the good old Dustman; 

In their eyes the dust he throws. 
Till their little heads are falling, 

And their weary eyes must dose. 
Then the Dustman very genlly 

Takes each little, dimj^ed band 
Leads tbem through the sweet green shadows, 

Far away in slumberland. 

Predtric Edward Weaiberly [1848^ . 


From " Meaophoa " 

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; 
When thou art old there's grief ^cn^ forthMJ. 

Mother's wag, pretty boy, 

Father's sonow, Father's jOy; 

When thy father first did see ; ■ ' 

Such a boy by him and me. 

He was glad, I was woe; 

Fortune changed made hun 10, ' 

When he left his pretty boy. 

Last his scttow, first his joy. 

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my kna^^ . , 
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. 

Streaming tears that never stint, 

Like pearl-drops from a flint. 

Fell by course from hjs,(^es. 

That one another's place supplies; 
, Thus he grieved in every part, ' 

Tears of blood fell from hisb^rt. 

When he left his pretty boy,..- ,; 

Father's sorrow, father's joy,. 


"Sleep, .Babyt, Sleep" ,'i 7ij 

Weep not, mjn wantDO, smile upon itiy.knbe; 

When thou art oid there ^ grief enough for thee. 
The wanton srafled, father wept, 1 
Mother died, baby leapt; 1 1 

More he tnxMved-j more we cndd^ ■'■ 
>bttire could not soiniw hide: i I 
He must go, he must kiss 
Child and mother,, baby bliss. 
For he left his pretty boy, ;' 

Father's sorrow, father's joy. 

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, 

When thou art oid there's grief enough for thee, 

Robert Gttaiit{i$(ibl~isii3\ 


Golden slumbers kiss your eyes. 
Smiles awake you when you rise. 
Sleep, pretty tratitona^dinat'Wyr' '' 
Andl wiU'singahdlaby. I 

Rock th«m, TDck th^m, lulhkby: ' .'' 

Care is heavy,! tbercfore sleep you^> 
You at)e caiie, ^nd care must keep youJ 
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, 
And I will sing a lullaby. ' ' 

Rock them, rock them, lullaby. 

. Tkomo) Dekk«e [15707-1641?) 

"SLEE^, ' BABY, SLEEP" ' 1 

Sleep, baby, sleep! what aUs my«teiat,'. 

Whataili my darling thus to cry?/ 
Be still, my child, and'lend thine fM,- ' 
- To hear me sfog th^ hillal^. , l 
My pretty larhb, forbear to ?»eep; ' > ' 
Be atfll, my ^Jear; sweet baby, sictpi -' 1 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Thou blessed sool, what canst thoa fearP 
What thing to thee can mischief do^ 

Thy God is now thy father dear, 
His holy Spouse thy motiier too. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, aleqi. 

Though thy conception was in sin, 
A sacred bathing thou hast had; 

And though thy birth unclean hath been, 
A blameless babe thou art now made. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 

While thus thy lullaby I sing. 

For thee great blessings ripening be; 

Tlitne Eldest Brother is a king, 
And hath a kingdom bought for thee. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 

Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear; 

For whosoever thee offends 
By thy protector threatened are, 

And God and angeb are thy friends. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, deep. 

When God with us was dwellmg here, 
In little babes He took dehght; 

Such inoocents as thou, my dear, 
Are ever precious in His sight. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 

A Uttle infant once was He; 

And strength in weakness then <hb& laid 
Upon His Viigin Mother's knee, 

That power to thee mlghtbe conveyed. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 


. . .Mother's Song ,77 

In this thy fraUty and thy need 
He friencb and helpers doth pnpaie, 

Which thee shall cherish, clothe, and feed, 
For of thy weal they tender aie. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 

liie Eing (rf Kings when He was bom. 

Had not so much for outward ease; 
By Him such dressings were not wom, ■ 

Nor such like swaddling-clothes a^ thfese. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 
Be stiil, my babe; sweet baby sle^. 
Within a manger lodged thy Lord, 

Where oxen lay and asses fed: 
Warm rooms we do to thee afford, 

An easy oradle Jbr a bed. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; 
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sle^ 
The wants that He did then sustain 

Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee, 
And by His torments and His pain 

Thy test and ease securM be. 
My baby, then forbear to weep; 
Be still, lay babe; aweet baby, sleep. 

Thou hast, yet more, to perfect this 

A promne and an earnest got 
Of gaining everlasting blisG, 

llMUgfa tl»u, my babe, perceiv'st it not. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to we^; 
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. ' 

Gtorge Wither I158S-1667I 

My heart is like a fountain tme 
That Sows and flows with love to you. 
As cbitps the lark unto the tree 
So diirps my pretty babe to me. 
And it's 01 sweet, sweet! aod a IgUaby. 


Poems of' Vouch and Age 

There's not a rose Trhere'er I seek, ' ■! 

As coioelv as my baby's cbeek.. 

Tbete's not a comb of honey-bee, 

So full of sweets as babe to me. 

And it's 01 sweet, sweeU and & Mlab^- 

There 's not a star that shines on high, ' ' 

Is bcighter thin ray babx'4 eye. r 

There's not a boat upon the sea, i 

Can dance as baby does to me. i 

Aad it's O! tweet, sweet! and a lullaby. 

No silk was ever spun so fine 

As is the hair of baby mine. 

My baby smells more sweet to me 7 

Than smells in spring the elder tree. 

And it's O! sweet, eweetl and a luUaio';,' 

A little fish snims hi the well, 

So in ray heart does baby dwell. 

A little flower blows on the tree. 

My baby is the flower to mo. 

And it's 0! sweet, sweet! and a lullaby. 

I'he Queen has scejUre, cnwn and ball,' 

You are my sceptre, ciown and all. 

For all her robes of royal silk, 

More fair your sicin, as white as milk. • ■ 

And it's O! sweet, sweet! and a lullaby. 

Ten thousand parks where deer do run. 

Ten thousand roses in the sun,. . > 

Ten thousand pearb beneath the sea. 

My babe more predous is to me. 

And it's O! sweet, sweet! and a luUaby. 


Upon my lap my sovereign sits 

And sucks upon my breast; 

M«an«-hile \aa bve Sustains my life 

And gives my body rest. 
Sing Wfeby, my little boy, ' 
Sing ItMhy, adnc (ffily jbyl ' 

p:hy Google 

When^lbMi but Itiim thy rapUt, i 

Repose, toy babe, on inc; - . 

So may tky mediei' and tby ma^' 

Thy cmdle atso hi. ■ ■ 
Sing lullaby, my iiule boy, 
Sing iiUklQ', arinie only joyJ^ 7 

I grieve that duty dott not work 

All that my wishing would, 

Because I'wouid not be to thee 

But in the best I should. 
Sing lullaby, my liifle boy, 
Sing lullaby, mine only |oy! 

Yetias I am,<aDd as I may, . - / 

I must and will be thine, 

ThoughalitoohtUeforihyse^ ,- 

Voucl^fing V be mine. . : ,. '; 
Singlvllaby,,ipy!ittte.lfoy, ;, , 'i 
Sing iifjjaby, BHne only ioy! 

Richard Roviands [fl. 1565- 

HnSHlmydear, lie still and shufabtr, .' 

Holy angels guard thy bed! ' // 
Heavenly blessings without number 

Gently falling an thy head. ■ 
Sleep, my babe; thy food and ralmeiil!, 

House and home, thy frifends provide; 
All Without thy care or payment i 

AU thy wants are well supplied. 
How much better thou 'rt attended , 

Than the Son of God could be. 
When from heaven He descended 

And became a child like thee I 
Srftajid easy .is thy cradle; 

Cowrac and hard thy Saviour lay. 
When Hia birthplas:* wjs a stable 

AndHissoft«6tbed.washay. , , 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Blessed babel what glorious featuiea— 

Spotless fair, divinuly bright! 
Must He (Iwdl with brutal creatures? 
How could angels bear the si^t? 

Was there nothing but a manger 

CursM sinners could afford 
To receive the heavenly stranger? 

Did they thus affront their Lord? 

Soft, my child: I did not chide thee. 
Though my song might sound too hard; 

'Tis thy mother sits beside thee, 
And her arms shall be thy guard. 

Yet to read the shameful story 
How the Jews abused tbeir King, 

How they served the Lord of Glory, 
Makes me angry while I sing. 

See the kinder shepherds round Him, 

Telling wonders from the sky! 
niiera they aought Him, theie they fouad Him 

With His Virgin mother by. 

See the lovely babe a-dressing; 

Lovely infant, how He smiled! 
When He wept, the mother's blessing 

Soothed and hushed the holy child. 

Twas to save thee, child, from dying, 

Save my dear frwn burning flame, 
Bitter groans and endless crying, 
That thy bleat Redeemer came. 



May'st Unw live to know aod feu Him; 

Trust and love Him 4U thy dfa^ys;' 
Then go dwell forever near Him, 

See His face, and sihg His itTsisel 

Isaac W<iiti (i6t4-i 


Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, , 

Dreaming in the joys of night; 
Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep \. 

Little sorrows sit and weep. 

Sweet babe, in thy face .. < 

Soft desires I on trace. 
Secret joys and secret smiles, 
Little pretty infant wiles. 

As thy softest limbs I feel 
Smiles as of the moming steal " 

O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breaat 
Where thy little heart doth rest. 

O the cunning wiles that creep 
In thy 'little heart asleep! 
When thy little heart doth wake, 
Then the dreadful night shall break. 

Watiam Blake [i757-i8i7l 


Baloo, loo, lanuny, now baloo, my dear, 
Does wee lammy ken that its daddy's no here? 
Ye 're rocking full sweetly on mammy's warm knee, 
But daddy's a-roiling upon the sah sea. 

Now hushaby, lannny, now hushaby, dter; 

Now hushaby, lammy, lot mother is near. 

The wild wind b raving, and mammy 's heart's sair; 

The wild wind is raving, and ye dinna care. 


8z Poems of Youch' and Age 

Sing baloo, loo, laininy, sing baloo, mydearj. 

Sing baloo, iooy lammy, for mother Is here. 

My wee baimie's dozing, it's dozing now Aiie, 

And O may its wakening be blither than mine! 

i' ' ■ Carolina Nairne I1766-1S45) 


0, HUSH tl 

Thy motht 

The woods . we see, 

They are a 

0, fear not the bugle, ^ough loudly it blows. 
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; 
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red. 
Ere the step of a foeman dtaws near Iq thy bed. 
ho ro,i ri ri, cadul gu lo. 

0, hush thee, my babic, the time soon will come, 
When thy.gleep.shall be broken by trumpet ,and drum; 
Then hush thee, my darling, Xake rest while you may, 
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. 
O ho^ TO, i ri ri, cadul gu lo. 


Little baby, lay your head 

On your pretty cradle-bed; 

Shut your eye-peeps, now the day 

And the light are gone away; 

All the clothes arc tucked in tight; ■ 

Little baby dear, good-night. 

Yes, my darting, well I know 
How the bitter wind doth blow; 
And the winter's snow and rain . / 

Patter on the window-pane: 
li' :.. But they cannot come in here, 

. To my little baby dear.; : | 

p:hy Google 

■ '■■ Lnllaby 183 

For Qie 'iiindow ^utteth fast; -' 
Till the stormy night is past; i 
And the curtains watm an sproad 
Round about her cradle bed: 1 
So tiH morning shineth height, 1 
Little baby dear, good-night ' 

/one Taylor I178J-18J4] 


LuHahy! luilaby! 

Hushed arc all things far and nigh; ' 

Flowers are dosing, 

Birds reposing, 
All sweet things with life are done, ' 
Sweet, till dawns the morning sun. 
Sleep, then kiss those blue eyes dry, '' 

Lullaby! lullaby! ' 

WHlio^ Cox Bennett [1810-189S, 


From " The Friiuxn " 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, < 
Low, low, breathe and blow, ' 

Wind of the western sea! . 
Over the roUtog waters go. 
Come from the dying moon, and blow, 

Blow him again to me; 
While my litt],e one, while my pretty one, sleeps. 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 

Father will come to thee soon; 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast. 

Father will come to thee soon; 
Father will come to his babe in the nest. 
Silver sails alt out of the west 
Under the silver moon: 
Sleep, my little one. sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

At/red Tennyson liSoo-iSgi] 


The kitten sleeps upon the hearth; 
The crickets long have ceased their mirth; 
There's nothing stirring in the house 
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse; 
Then why so busy thou? 

Nay! start not at that sparkling light; 
Tis but the moon that shines so bright 
On the window-pane bedropped with rain; 
There, little darling! sleep again, 
And wake when it is day ! 

Dorothy Wordivorlli |t8o4-i 


EvEPY evening Baby goes 

Trot, trot, to town, 
Across the river, through the fields, 

Up hill and down. 

Trot, trot, the Baby goea. 
Up hill and down, 


Holy Innocents ' '■ 8j 

To buy a feather for her hat, 
To buy a woOleit gown. 

Trot, trot, the Baby goes; 

The birds fly d&wD, alack! 
"You cannot hav« our feathers, dear," 

They say, "so please trot back." 

Trot, trot, the Baby goes; 

The lambs come bleating near. 
"Youcannothaveour wool," they *ay, 

"But we are sorry, dear." 

Trot, trot, the Baby goes, 

Trot, trot, to town; 
She buys a red rose for her hat. 

She buys a cotton gown. 

Mary F. Bulls U836- 


SuXP, little Baby, sleep; 

The holy Angels love thee, 
And guard thy bed, and keep 

A blessed watch above thee. 
No spirit can come near 

Nor evil beast to harm thee: ' • 
Sleep, Sweet, devoid of fear 

Where nothing need alarm thee. 

The Love which doth not sleep, 

The eternal Arms surround thee: 
The Shepherd of the sheep 

In perfect love hath found thee. 
Sleep through the holy night, 

Girist-kept from snare and sorrow, 
Until thou wake to light 

And love and warmth to-morrow. 

Chrinina Gevrpna Rosstlli [\iiO-i»i>A 


Poem?. of YoMthl wd Age 

Fnm " Tbc Hbtitu of tbe Huk " 

RoCKABY, Inllaby, bees in the cloverl 

Ctooning so drowsily, crying so lowj ' 

Rockaby, lullaby, dear little roverl 
Down into wonderland, 
Down totheuKder-land • 

Go, oh go! 

Down into wonderland go! 

Rockaby, lullaby, rain on the clover! 
(Tears on the eyelids that wBver and weep!) 
Rockaby, lullaby — bendinglt over! 

Down on the mother-world, 

Down on the other wmtM, 
Sleep, oh sleep! 
Down on the mother-world deep! 

Rockaby, lullaby, dew on the dovcr! 
Dew on the eyes that will spacfclc at dawn I 
Rockaby, lullaby, dear little rarer! 
Into the stiiy world, 
Tnio the lily world, 

GoTve! oh gone! 
Into the lily wnrld com-! 

JosM GUbtrt B«a4Kd [tSig-iSSi] 


Ftofo ■■ Blltet'SwHI " 

Weat is the little one thinking about? 
Very wonderful Ihings, no doubt! 

Unwritten history! . ^ 

Unlalhomed mysttryl 
, Yet he laugjis and cries, and cats and drinks, 
And chuckles and crows, and nods and winks, 


I>; Cridle iSang- ■ 


As if bis head were as full of kinks ' 
And curious riddles as any sphiitfl 
Warped by colic, and wet by tearsj 
Punctured by pins, and tDiti»ed bji fears, 
■ Our littte' nephew «il! Igae two years ; 
And he '11 never know 
Where.ttcsiupmwsgo;— . 
He need not laugh, for he'll find it sol 

Barks tfaatiKsre lamidKd on l^e other'^ide. 
And slipped from Heaven on an ebbing tide! 

What does he think of hbraotherfaiyes? 
What does he tiiink of Ws mother 's hair? 

What ot the cradle-roof, thaH flief ' '' 
Forward andbackwaid through the air? 

What docs he think of his mother 's breast, 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 

Out lo his little finger-tipsl , 
Softly sinking, down he gotsi 
Down he goes! down he goes! 
See! he is hushed in sweet repose! ' 

/mmJi Ciibtrl HtUaud |iei9-i8gi| 


I 'VE found my bonny babe a nest 

On Shimber Tree, 
I'll rock you there to rosy rest, 

Asthore Machree! 
Oh, lulla lo! nng all the leaves 

On Slumber Tree, 
Till everything that hurts or grieves 

Afar must flee. ' 

I've put my pretty child to float j 

Away from me, 
Within the new moon 's silver boat 

On Slumber Sea. 
And when your starry sail is o'er 

Fram Slumber Sea. 
My precious one, you'll step to shore 

On Mother's knee. 

Atfted Fercenal Gravtt 11846- 


Lord Gabriel, wilt thou not rejoice 
When at last a little boy's 

Cheek lies heavy as a rose, 

And his eyelids close? 

Gabriel, when that hush may he. 
This sweet hand all heedfuUy 

I'll undo, for ihee alone. 

From his mother's own. 


Cradle Song . ^> 

Then the far blue kigdirays pawen 
With the burning itars of faeaveni > 

May not spill a gleam? 

He will take thy heart in thrall, 
Telling o'er thy breastplate, all 
Colors, in his bubblUig speech. 
With his hand to each. 

[Dormi, dormi, tu. 
Sapphire it' HubUa: 
Pearl and beryl, iMey are tailed, 
Chtyuprase and emerald, 

p:hy Google 

5* Poems Qf.Youthf and Age 

Sard and OKtelkjitl. ■'■[' 

NuttUKrat so, onrf kissed,} 

All, but find some angel word 
For thy sharp, subduing sword!' 
Yea, Lotd ilichael; make no dq^bt 
Hewiilfiirfitout: i 

{Dormi, iormi, lu! 

His eyes will look al you.) 

Last, a little morping space, 
Lead him to that leafy place ; 

Where Our Lady sits awake. 

For all mothere' sake. 

Bosomed with the Blessed One^ 
He shall, mind her of her Son, 

Once so foided from all harms, 

In her shrining arms. 

(In her veil of blue, 
Dormi, dormi, tit.) 

S6;— and fare thee well. 

Softly,— Gabriel .... '' 

When the first faint red shall come. 
Bid the Day-star lead him home, 

For the bright wotU's ?akfi— 7 

Tc) my heaf t, awake. 

Josephine Preston Pcabpiy [1874- 

White little hands! ,. 

,, Pink little feetl ^ 

Dimpled all over, 

Sweet, sweet, sweet! 
What dost thou i»ail for? 

The unknown? the uUSewi?.. 
Ifab iUs that are coming, . 
The jbys tbdt have bpea? . , 


' iKcnmdtyj Babe :...'| 9>fi 

'Cling, lio-ine,do^ei, ' .> ii' i, •,!■,;,!. H 

r, Qoaerand dosar, ■■..,-,(' i-,, ,// 

"nU the pain that is purer , ■ 

Hath banished the>.grassGr' . -'A 
DiaiD, drain at the Gtreafn, Jov^, -, 

Thy hunger ia freeing, 
Hat was born in a dream, love, 

Along wWh' thy being! - '- 

Little lingers' that feci' ; "' ''■'■"'' ''■ 
For thefr home on my breast, ■ ■ ' 

Litde lips that appeal ' .'I 

For'tbor Durture, their rtsti 

)u weefi,,dear? 

^f*'. ..^ ..',!,■ 'l 

sleep, dear, 
e eyes, ■ ' " ' 

Alfftd AulUtt lia'3S^gi3\ 

KENTUCKY BABE , .;; ,, „ 
'Skeeteks am a hummin' on de honeysuckle vine, — 

Sleep, Kentucky Babe! 
Sandman am a comrin' to dis little toon of mine, — 

Sleep, KmlHciy Babe! > 

Snv'ry moon am »lunin ' in de heabens up above, 
Bobdink am pinin'fo' hialitllelady love: ! 

Yt^ is mighty iu/cky; 

BabeoJMKe^wAy.-r- , :. . \ 

dose yo' eyes itnlttt- 

Fly av/ay, 
Fly away, Kentucky Babe, fly away to rest, '' 

Fiy away, 
lay yo' kinky, woolly head on yo' maiamy'sibreast, — 

Oose yo' eyes in sleep. ■ 'I 

Daddy's in de cane-brake wid his little dog and gun, — 

Sleep, Kentucky Babe! 
Tossum fo' yo' breakfast when yo' sleepin' time is done,— 

Sleep, Kentucky Babel 


J2 Poems of Youth and Age 

Bogie man '11 catch yo' sure unless yo' close yo' eyea, 
Waitin' jes outside de doo' to Uke yo' by surprise: 

Bes' be keepin' shady, 

Link colored tody, — 

Close yo' eyes in sleep. 

Riekard Henry Biuk [1860- 

Minnie and Winnie slept in a shell. 
Sleep, little ladies! And they slept well. 
Sounds < 
Sle^, III 
Echo on 

Two bright stara peeped into the shell. 
"What are they dxeuning of? Who can tell?" 
Started a green linnet out of the croft ; 
Wake, little ladies! The sun is aloft. 

Alfred Tmnyseu [i8oo-i8biI; 

Sleep, my baby, while I sing 
Bed -time news of everythii^. 
Chickens run to mother heii; 
Piggy curls up in the pen. 
In the field, all tired with play, 
Quiet now the lambkins stay. 
Kittens cuddle in a heap- 
Baby, too, must go to sleepl 
Sleep, my baby, while I sing 
■Bed-time news of everything. 
Now the cows from pasture come; ■ 
Bees fly home with drowsy hum. 
■ Little birds arc in the nest, 
Under mother-bird's soft breast. 
_ , . Over all soft shadows creep- 
Baby now must go to sleep. 


Tucking the Baby In ' 

Sleqp, my baby, while I taag ■ | 
Bed-lime news of eveiything. , 
Sleepy ^iwcis seem to nod, 
Drooping toward t^e dewyaod; 
While tbe big sun's fading light 
Bids my baby dear good-night. 
Mother loving watch wiU keep; 
B^^ DOW must go to sleep. . . . 
EmitU Poulsson [ig< 

The darli-fringed eyelids slowly cjose 

On eyes serene and deep; 
Upon my breast my own sweet child 

Has gently dropped to sleep; 
I kiss his soft and dimpled cheek, 

I kiss his rounded chin, 


.'s Qwn smile, 

Or like some new embodied soul, 

Still pure from taint of sin — 
My thoughts arc reverent as I stoop 

To tuck nv baby in. 
What toil mi|Bt stain lltese tiny hands 

That ncnrfie still and' white? 
What shadows croq> acmss the faoe 

TbaX sUdcs with mocning light? 
These wee pink Aoeless feet— how far 

Shall go thdr lengtbcniDg tread. 
When they no longa cuddled dose 

May rest upon this bed? 
O what am I that I should train 

An angel for the skies; 
Or mix the potent draught that feeds 

The soul witbin these eyes? 


$4 Poems of Youth and Age 

I reach him up to the sinless Hands 
Before his cares begin, — 

Great Father, with Thy folds o^ love, 
O tuck my baby in: ' 

Cunis Stay [iS 

What a plague is this o' mine. 

Tak' him to your ain den. 

Whaur the bogie bides, " '' 
But first put baith ;^lir big teeth'- ' 

In bis wee phimp sides; 
' Gic your auld gray pow a shaire,' - ' ' I 

Rive him frae my grup,' ' ' 
Tak' him -whaur nae kiss b gaun '' ' 

When he waukens up. ' ' ' 

Whatna noise is that I hear 

Coomin'dotm the street?' >■ ' ,'.' 
Wcel I ken the dump, dunqi, ' - 

■O' her beetjefeet; - ' '/ 

Meity mcl she's iit the-doocl . 

Hear her lift the sneck; - ' 

Whcesht, an' cuddle mammy. toO, 

Closer roun' the neck. ■■ !.' 

Jenny wi' the aim teeth, ,, < , 

The bairn has aff his daes; . i 

Sieepin' saie an' ^oun', I think,— ,, , 
Dinna tquch his taes. . , . ; 


Sleepiii'-b&l^aTG'titf'fe#iyiin',' -i ■ni I 

Yemay turft'sboot; ,;.r , ,. • :.;; 

An' tak''aWa'lWee TteniwIit'dOiM-^.' '' 

I hearWtnSerddiHr'wrt. ' ' • ■ '' " 

Dump, dump, awa' she gangs ' '' '' 

Back the road she cam', ' ' ' ' ' 

I hear her at the ither doof,' ' ' ' ' '' 
Speirin' after Tam; "' 

He's a erabbit, grcetin' thing— ' ■' ■ ' 
The warst in a' the ^oc 

Little like my atn' wee weati— 
Losh, he's slcepin' souii'! ' 

; f 

^.. I.' ■ 
\f> './ 

-:::'• ■ '/. 

fnchten muckie men. 

. —.-A ■ : ■■::... r-- . I ,, „„,T 

.CII»DI,E,OOON , ■„/ 

THEbairniej coddle doon. ^t fiicht.^. 

Wi' miickle faucht,an' ((in,; , ,,', ,^ . 
"0, try an' sleep, ycwfi^ukrifc ro^^ 

Your father's comin' in." 
They never bee(Lit.w«rd'1.3pMki'.i .'Ij 

I try togie-a £roon,i '^,<;:i.: :/f 
But«yeJ haplhetni^an'.ifry^ ,.. t,.;i 

"0 bain)l«Sj cuddle.doon.:'.,,;, i:i ,7 

Wee Jamie wi',,UM.ciiiJy.l)ftid-H ,, 1/ 

Heiaye.sWpBiHcKt.tbfjiva.'— ■ ■, ,/, 
Bangs up ah'icries,;"! »ii\M\a:pi4ae^^' 
The iHbcxI otsTtathem a'. 


96 Poems of Youth and Age 

I rin an' fetdi them pieces, drinks. 

They atop awee the sous'i 
Then draw the blankets up aa' ay, 

"Noo, weanies, cuddle doon." 

But ere five tninutes gang, wee Rab 

Cries oot, frae 'neath the claes, 
"Mither, mak' Tam fft ower at once-^ 

He's kitUin' wi' hb taes. " 
The mischief's in that Tam for tricks, 

He'd bother half the toon; 
But aye I hap them up an' cry, 

"O balrnies, cuddle doon." 

At leng 

An', I 
They ti 
• WhU< 



■■■ An' just afore wc bed oorsel's, 

We look at oor wee lambs; 
Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, 

An' Rab his airni roun' Tarn's. 
I lift wee Jamie up the bed. 

An' as I straik each croon, 
I whisper, till my heart fills up, 

"0 bairnies, cutiiile doon." 

The bairtiies cuddle doon at nicht 

Wi' mirth that's dear to me; 
But sune the big warl's cark an' care 

Will quaten doon their glee. 
Yet, come what will to ilka ane, 

May He who sits eboon 
Aye whisper, though their pows be 'bauld, 

"O'boimies, cuddle doon." 

Alaamdtr Aadvsan (1845--1900I 



Tis bedtime; say your hymn, and bid " Good-night; 
God bless Mamma, Papa, and dear ones all." 
Youf hsif-lbut eyes beneath your eycKds idl^ 
Another minute, you will shut them quite. 
Yes, 1 will carry you, put out the light, 
And tuck you up, although you are so tall! 
What win you give me, decpy one, and call 
My wages, if I settle you all tight? 

I laid her golden curls upon my arm, 

I drew her litde feet within my hand, 

Her rosy palms were joined in trustful bliss, 

Her heart next mine beat gently, soft and warm 

She nestled to me, and, by Love's command. 

Paid me my predous wages— " Baby's Kiss." 

Francis Robert St. Clair ErsiiM li8jj-iSi)o) 




The world is so full of a number of things, 
I'm sure we should aU be as happy as kiogs. ' 

Kobert Louis Stevenson [i850'iS94] 


A CHILD should always say what's true i 
And speak when he is spoken to. 
And behave mannerly at table; 
At least as far as he is able. 

Robert Louis Stevenson [1650-1844] 


Good little boys should never say 

"I will," and "Give me these"; 
0, no! that never is the way. 

But "Mother, if you please." 

And "If you please," lo Sister Ann 

Good boys to say are ready; 
And, "Yes, sir," to a Gcnlleman, 

And, "Yes, ma'am," to a Lady. 

Elisabeth Turner I ? -1846] 


Hearts, like doors, will ope with ease 

To very, very little keys, 

And don't forget that two of these 

Are "I thank you" and "If you pleaae." 



The Lovable Child 

Come when yon 're called. 
Do what you're bid,' 

Close the door after you, 
Nevef be chid, 

Sddom "can't," 

Seldom "don't;" 
Never "shan't," 

Never "won't." 


Whek little Fred 

Was caUed to bed. 
He always acted ri^t; 

He kisBed Mama, 

And then Papa, 
And wished them all gpod-night:. 

He made no noise, 

Like naughty boys, 
But gently up the statis 

Directly went, 

When he was sent, 
And always said hi> praycEs. 

Modest as a violet, 
As a rosebud sweet — 

That's tTie kind of little girl 
People liko to meet. 

Bri^ as is a diamond. 
Pure as any pearl^ 

Everyone rejoices in ■ ■ '■ 
Such a Ihtle girl. 

p:hy Google 

lOO Poems of Youth and Age 

Happy as a robin. 

Gentle aaa dove — 
Tliat's the kind of little girl 

Everyone will love. 
Fly away and seek her, 

Little song of mine, 
For I choose that very girl 

As my Valentine. 

Emitic Poulssau (i8sj- 

CuiLDRECf, you aie very little. 
And your bones are very brittle; 
If you would grow great and stately, 
Vou must try to walk sedately. 
You must still be bright and qitiet, 
And content with simple diet; 
And remain, through all bcwild'ring, 
Innocent and honest children. 
Happy hearts and happy faces, 
Happy play in grassy places — 
That was how, Jn ancient igcs, 
Guldren grew to kings and sages. 
But the unkind and the imruly. 
And the sort who cat unduly. 
They must never hope tor glory — 
Theirs is quite a different storyl 
Cruel children, cryi:^ babies, 
All grow up as geese and gables, 
Hated, as their age increases, 
By their nephews and their nieces. 

Robert Lotih SUvcmim {1850- 18(14 J 

Yesteumy, Rebecca Mason, 

In the parlor by herself, 
Broke a handsotne china baaln. 

Placed upoD the m&md^eU . 


A Rule for Birds' Nesters ie>t 

Quite alarmed, sfaii thou^t of goiAg 

Very quietly away, 
Not a single person knomng, 

Of her being there that day. 

But Rebecca recollected 

She was taught deceit to shun; 
And the moment she reSected, 

Told her mother what was done; 

Who commended her behavior, 
Loved her better, and forgave her. 

Elhabtth Turner I ? -1846] 


Ltttle children, never give 
Pain to things that feel ajid live; 
Let the gentle robin come 
For the crumbs you save at home, — 
As his meat you throw along 
Hell re|»y you with a song; , 
Never hurt the timid hare 
Peeping from her greerv grass.^r. 
Lei her come and sport and play 
On the lawn at dose of day; 
Tlie little lark goes soarbg high , 
To the bright windows of the sky, 
Singing as if 'twere always spring, 
And fluttering on an untired yipg,— 
Oh! let him dng his happy song, 
Nor do these gentle creatuns' wrong. 


The robin and the red-breast. 
The ^mrrow and the wren; ' 

If ye take out o' their nest. 
Yell never thrive again I 


. 10i. -." Poems of Youth and Age 

Hie robiD and the led-breast, 

The martin and ibe swallow; 
If ye toucli one o' their eggs, 
Bad luck will surely follow I 

I've plucked the berry from the bush, the brown nut from 

the tree, 
But heart of happy little bird ne'er broken was by me. 
I saw them in their curious nests, close coudiiiig, slyly peer 
With their wild eyes, like glittering beads, to Bote if harm 

I passed them by, and blessed them all; I felt that it was 

To leave unmoved the creatures small whose home was in 

the wood. 

And here, even now, above ray head, a lusty rogue doth 

He pecks his swelling breast and neck, and trims his little 

He will not fly; he knows full weU, while chirping on that 

I would not harm him for the world, or interrupt his lay. 
Sing on, sing on, blithe bird! and fill my heart with summer 

It has been aching many a. day with measures full of sadnessi 
WiUiam UalkeraieK (1797-1835] 

I LIKE little Pussy, her coat is so warni; 
And if I don't hurt her she'll do me no harm. 
So I'll not pull her tail, nor drive her away, 
But Pussy and I very gently will play. 

She shall sit by my side, and I'll give her some food; 
And she'U love me because I am gentle and good. 
Ill pat little Pussy and then she will purr, 
And thus show her thanks for my kindness to her. 


The Litde Gentleman . joj 

111 not pinch her eus, nor tread on her paw, 
Lest I should provoke her to use her sharp claw; 
I never will ves her, nor make her displeased, 
Fer Pussy can't bear to be worried or teased, 

Jane TaytoT (1783-1814] 



Moke the roi^ty ages 
Of eternity. 

So our little errors 

Lead the soul away 
From the path of virtue. 

Far in sin to stray. 

Little deeds of kindness. 

Little words of love, 
Help to make earth happy 

Like the heaven above. 

Julia PieUker Carney (1813-1908] 


Take your meals, my little man. 
Always like a gentleman; 
Wash your face and hands with care, 
Change your shoes, and brush j'our hair; 
Then so fresh, and deaa,and neat. 
Come and take your proper seat; 
Do not loiter and be late, 
Making other people wait; 

p hyGoogle 

I04 yoems ot Youth and Age 

Do not rudely point or touch: 
Bo not eat and drink too much: 
Finish what you have, before 
You even ask, or send for more: 
Never crumble or destroy 
Food that others might enjoy; 
They who idly cnimbs will waste 
Often want a loaf to taste! 
Never spill your milk or tea, 
Never rude or noisy be; 
Never choose the daintiest food, 
Be content with what is good: 
Seek in all things that you can 
To be a little gentleman. 


I MUST not throw upon the floor 

The crust I cannot eat; 
For many little hungry ones 

Would think it quite a treat. 

My parents labor very hard 
To get me wholesome food; 

Then I must never waste a bit 
That would do others good. 

For wilful waste makes woeful want, 

And I may live to say, 
Oh! how I wish I had the bread 

That once I threw away! 


How doth the little busy hee 
Improve each shining hour. 

And gather honey all the day 
From every opening flower! 


The Brown Thrash ■ loj 

How skilfully she builds her celll 

How neat she spreads the wax! 
ADd lalxtrs hard to store it well 

With the sweet food she makes. 

In works of labor or of skill, 

I would be busy too; 
For Satan finds some mischief still 

For idle hands to do. 

In books, or work, or healthful play, 

Let my first years be passed, 
That I may give for every day 

Some good account at last. 

Isaac Walls 11674-1748] 

Tseke's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree. 
"He's singing tome! He's singing tome!" 1 

And what does be say, little giri, little boy? 
"Ob, the u*orld's ruuuing over with joy! 
Don't you hear? Don't you S|Be? 
Hush! Look! In my tree, 
I'm as happy as happy can be!" 

And the bi a you see, 

And five ei 
Don't Di boy, 

And I 
If you never bring sorrow to me." 

So tbe merry brown thrush sings away in the/tree. 
To you and to me, to you and to me; 
And he sings a!! the day, little girl, little boy, 
'"Oh, th% world's running over with joy! 
But long it won't be, 
Don't you know? Don't you see? 
Unless we're as good as can be." 

Lucy Larcom [1814'igQj) 


io6 Poems of Youth and "Age 


'Tis the voice of a sluggard; 1 heard him comfi^n, 
"You have waked me too soon; I must slumber again"; 
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed 
Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and bis tteHvy head. 

"A little more sleep, and a little more slumber"; 

Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number; 

And when he gets up, he sits folding his hand^ 

Or walks about saunt'ring, or trifling he stands. 

I passed by his garden, and saw the wild brier 
The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; 
The clothes that haug on him are turning to rags; 
And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs. 

I made him a visit, still hoping to find 
That he took better care for improving his mJnd; 
Me told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinkihg, 
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.' 

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me; 
That man's but a picture of what I might be; 
But thanks to my friends for their caro in my breeding. 
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading." 

lioac Walls [1674-1748] 


Down in a green and shady bed 

A modest violet grew; 
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, ' ' : 
■ As if to hide from view. 

And yet it was a lovely (tower, ' 

Its colors bright and fair; 
It might have graced a rosy bower, 

Instead of liiding there. 


Dirty Jim, 107 

Vet there it was content to bloom, 

In modest tints arrayed; 
And there diffused a sweet perfume, 

Within the silent shade. 

Then let me to the valley go, 

This pretty flower to see; 
That I may also learn to grow 

In sweet humility. 

Jane Ta^ [1783-1834I 


There was one little Jhn, 
Tis reported of him, 
And must be to his lasting disgrace, 

lite dean; 
But all was in vain, 
He got dirty again, 

) survey; 
His indolent mind 
No pleasure could find 
In tidy and wholesome array. 

The idle and bad, 


108 Poems of Youth and Age 


"Dear mc! what signifies a, pin, 

Wedged in a rotlen board? 
I'm certain Ihai I won't begin, 

At ten years old, to hoard; 
I never will be called a miser, 
That I'm detennined," said EUza. 

So onward tripped the little maid. 

And left the pin behind, 
Which very snug and quiet lay. 

To its hard fate resigned; 
Nor did she think (a careless chit) 
Twas worth her while to stoop for it. 

Next day a party was to ride, 

To see an air balloon; 
And all the company beside 

Were dressed and ready soon; 
But she a woeful case was in. 
For want of just a single pin. 

In vain her eager eyes she brings, 

To every darksome crack; 
There was not one, and yet her things 

Were dropping off her back. 
She cut her pincushion in two. 
But no, not one had fallen through. 

At last, as hunting on the floor. 

Over a crack she lay. 
The carriage rattled to the door. 

Then rattled fast away; 
But poor Eliza was not in, 
For want of just— a single pin! 

There's hardly anything so small, 

So trifling or so mean, 
That we may never want at all, 

For service unforeseen; 


Jane and Eliza 109 

And wilful waste, depend upon't. 
Brings, almost aJways, woeful wut! 

Ann Taylor [ijB3-i866| 


Thebe were two little girls, neither handsome nor' plain 
One's name was ^liza, the other's was Jane; 
They were both of one height, as I've heard people say. 
And I 



But Chen you might sefi tha^t, in forcing a smile, 
Her mouth was uneasy, Uid ached all the wJiilc, 

And m ^ite of her cace it would sometimes bcfaB 
That some cross event happened to ruin it all; 
And because it might chance that her share was the worst, 
Her temper broke loose, and her dimples dispersed. 

But Jane, who had nothing she wanted to hide, . 

And therefore these troublesome arts never tried, 

llad none of the care and fatigue of concealing, 

But her face always showed what her bosom was feeling. 

At home or abroad there was peace in her smile, ■ 
A cheerful good nature that needed no guile. 
.■\nd Eliza .worked hard, but coiJd never obtaini 
The affection that freely was given to Jane. 

_ .4hb ra>y,liT82-i866] 

p:hy Google 

no Poems of Youth and Age 


One ugly trick has often spoiled 

The sweetest and the best; 
Matilda, though a pleasant child, 

One ugly trick pcssessed, 
Which, like a doud before the skies, 
Hid all her better qualities. 

Her grandmamma went out one day. 

And by mistake she laid 
Her spectacles and snuS-box gay 

Too near the little maid; 
"Ah! well," thought she, "111 try them o 
As sooa as grandmamma is gone,"" 

Forthwith she placed upon her nine 

The glasses large and "wide; 
And looking round, as 1 suppose. 

The snuff-box too she spied: 
"Oh! what a pretty box is that; 
111 opsn it," said little Matt. 

"I know that grandmamma would say, 

'Don't meddle with it, dear'; 
But then, she's far enou^ away, 

And no one else is near; 
Besides, what can there be amiss. 
In opening such a box as this?" 

So thumb and finger went to work 

To move the stubborn lid, 
And presently a mighty jerit ,: 

~ The mighty mischief did; 


Contented John ' 

Matilda, smarting with the pain, 

And tingling still, and: 64re, 
Made many a promise to refrain 

From meddUog evermore. 
And 'tis a Eact, as I hav« heard, ■ 
She ever since haa kept her woiii, 

Attn Taylor (i78»-i866l 


One honest John Toinkiifi, a bedger and ditdier. 
Although he was poor, did not want td be richer; 
For all such vain wishes in him were prevented 
By a fortunate habit of being centcntM, 

Tlougl I, 

John ni 



"For why should. I grumble and murmur?" he said; 
"If I canoot get meat, I'll be thankful for bread; 
And, though (retting may make my calamities deeper. 
It can never cause bread and cheese to be cheaper." 


lia Poems of. Youth and Age 

If John was afOicted with sickness or pain. 
He wished himself better, but did not complain. 
Nor lie down to fret In despondence and sorrow, 
But said that he hoped to be better to-morrow. 

If any one wronged him or treated him ill. 

Why, John was good-natured and sodabte still; 

For he said that revenging the injury done 

Would be making two rogues when there need be but one. 

And thus honest 

Passed through t 

And I wish that , 

Would copy Johi 


How good to lie a little while 
And look up through the treel 

The Sky b like a kind big smile 
Bent sweetly over me. 

The Sunshine flickers through the lace 

Of leaves above ray head. 
And kisses me upon the face 

Like Mother, before bed. 

The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass 

To whisper pretty things; 
Aid though I cannot see him pass, 

I feel hia careful wings. 

So many gentle Friends are near 

Whom one can scarcely see, 
A child should never feel a fear, 

Wherever he may be. 

AbbU Faneell Brmm [ij 


* There Was a Little Girl" 


Anges in its time and place 
May assume a kind of grace. 
It imist have some reason in it, 
And not last beyond a miaute. 
If to fujtbcT Icnjlhs it go, 
It does into malice grow, 
lis the difference that we see 
Twixt the serpent and the bee. 
If the latter you provoke. 
It inflicts a hasty stroke, 
Puts you to some little pain, 
But it never stings again. 
Close m tufted bush or brake 
Lurks the poison-swellM snake 
NutBJng up his cherished wrath; 
In the purlieus Of his path, 
In the cold, or in the warm, 
Mean him good, or mean him hann, 
Wheresoever fate may bring you, 
The vile snake will always sling y&u. 

Charles and Mary Lamb 

Thek£ was a little girl, who had a little curl 

Right in the middle of her f<H^head, 
And when she was good, she was very, very good, 

But when she was bad she was horrid. 

She stood on hef head, on her little trundlc-bed, 

With nobody by /or to hinder; 
She screamed and she squalled, she ycUcd and she bawled, 

.\nd drummed her little heels against the winder. 

Her mother heard the noise, and thought it was the boys 

Playing in the empty attic, 
She rushed upstairs, and caught her unawares, 

And spanked her, most emphatic. 


p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 


Godfrey Gordon Gustavos Goke— 

No doubt you have heard the name before — 

Was a boy who never would shut a door! 

The wind might whistle, the wind might roar. 
And teeth be aching and throats be sore, 
But still he never would shut the door. 

Ris father would beg, his mother implore, 

"Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore, 

We really do wish you would shut the door! " 

Their hands they wrung, their hair they tore; 
But Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore . 
Was deaf as the buoy out at the Nore. 

When he walked forth the folks would roar, 
"Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore, 
Why don't you think to shut the door? " 

They rigged out a Shutter with sail and oar, . 
And threatened to park off Gustavus Gore 
On a voyage of penance to Singapore. 

But he begged for mercy, and said, "No morel 

Pray do not send me to Sing^Kire 

On a Shutter, and then I will shut the door!" 

"You will?" said his parents; "then keep oo diorel 
But mind you do! For the plague is sore 
Of a fellow that never will shut the door, 
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore!" 

William Briskly Rands |iSi^'iS8a) 


A PBETTY good firm is "Watch Sl Waite," 
And another is "Attit, Early & Layte;" 
And still another is "Doo & Dsuret;" 
But the best is probably " Gtinn & Barrett," 
. , , Waiter G. Doty Ii8t6- 


How the Litde Kite Learned to Fly uj, 



The big kite nodded: "Ah well, gOodby; 

I'm off;" and he rase tivward the tranquil dfey. 

Then the little kite's pc^ier stirred al the s%ht. 

And trembling he ^ook himself free for flight. 

First whirling and frightened, then braver grown. 

Up, up he rose through the air alone, 

Till the big Jute lookizig down could sec , , 

The little <mc rising steadily. 

Then how the litLlc kite tbriUed.uGth ptridc^. 

As be sailed with the big kite side by sidcl 

While far below he could see the ground, 

And the boys like smaUspcts moving round. 

They rested high in the quiet air, 

And only thfc binis amf the clouds were (here. 

"Oh, how happy lam! "the litde ktte cried, 

"And all beckuscl wasbrftVe;and'tri«d:" 

' '■"■■. ■ Unknovm 


Poems of Youth and Age 


Methooght I heard a butterfly 

Say to a laboring bee: 
"Thou hast no colors ot the sky 

On painted wings like me." 

"Poor child of vanity! those dyes. 

And ccfors bright and rare," 
With mild reproof, the bee replies, 
" Are all beneath my care. 

"Content I toil from morn till eve. 

And, scorning idleness, 
To tribes of gaudy sloth I leave 

The vanity of dress." 

William Lisle Btru^ts |i76i-iSso| 


The butterfly, an idle thing. 

Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing, 

As do the bee and bird; 
Nor does it, like tlie prudent ant. 
Lay np the grain for times of want, 

A wise and cautious hoard. 

My youth Is but a summer's day: 
Then b"ke the bee and ant I'll lay 

A store of learning by; 
And though from flower to flower I rove, 
My stock of wisdom I'll improve, 

Nor be a butterfly. 

AddaidtO'Kt^e [1776-1355] 


The lark is up to meet the sun, 
The bee is on the wing, 

The ant her labor has begun, 
The woods with mu9i»jing. 


Buttercups and Daisies n- 

Shall turds and bees and ants be wise, 

Wbile I my incmieDts watte? 
Oh, let me with the inonuBg rise, 

And to my duties haste. 

Why should I sleep till beams of mom 

"Rieir light and gloiy shed? . 
Immortal beings were not bom 

To waste tbeir time in bed. 

Jane Tayi«r I178J-1814I 


BuTTKSCUps and daisies, 

Oh, the pretty flowers; 
Coming ere the spring time. 

To tell of sunny hours. 
While the trees are leafless. 

While the fields are bare, 
Buttercups and daisies 

Spring up here and there. 

Ere the snow-drop peepeth. 

Ere the crocus bold, 
Ere the early primrose 

Opes its paly gold, — 
Somewhere on the sunny bank 

Buttercups are bright; 
Somewhere midst the froien gcass 

Peeps the daisy white. 

Little hardy flowers. 

Like to children poor, 
Playing in their sturdy health 

By their mother's door. 
Purple with the norlb-wmd. 

Yet alert and bold; 
Fearing not, and caring not. 

Though they be a-co|d! 


■ I J 8 Poems of Youth and Age 

What to them 19 winter! 

What are stormy showersi 
Buttercups and daisies 

Ate these hiatnan flowers! 
He who gave them hardships 

And a life of care, 
Gave them likewise hardy strength 

And patient hearts to bear.' ' 

Mory ffrfM'« J17Q0-1888I 

A SILLY youag cricket, accustomed to sing < 
Through the warm, sunny months of gay summer and spring, 
Began to complain, when he found that at h^me 
His cupboard was empty and winter was come. 

Not a crumb to be found 

On the snow-covered ground; 

Not a flower could he see, 

Not a leaf on a tree: 
"Oh, what will betomc," sa>'s the cricket, " 6f me?" 

At last by starvation and famine made bold. 

All dripping with wet and all trembling with, cold. 

Away he set off to a miserly ant. 

To see if, to keep him alive, be would grant ; 

Him shelter from rain: 

A mouthful o£ grain 

He wbhed only to borrow. 

He'd repay it to-morrow: 
If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow. 

Says the ant to the cricket, "I'm your servant and friend, 

But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend ; 

But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by 

When the weather was warm?" Said tie cricket, "Not I. 

My heart was so light 

That I sang day and night, ' ' ' 

For all nature looked gay." 

"You sang, sir, you say? 
Go then," said the ant, "and dance winter away." 


Deeds of Kindness in 

Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket 

And out of the door turned the poor little cricket. 

Though this is a fable, the moral is good: 

If you live without work, you must live without food. 

This was your butterfly, you see, — 

His fine wings made him vain: 
The caterpillars crawl, but he 

Passed them in rich disdain,— 
My pretty boy says, "Let him be 

Only a worm again!" 

Sarah M. B. Piatt (1836- 

Suppose the little Cowslip 

Should hang its golden cup 
And say, "I'm such a little flower 

I 'd better not grow up! " 
How many a weary traveller 

Would miss its fragrant smdl. 
How many a little child would giievft 

To lose it from the dell! 

Siqipoee the glistening Dewdn^ 

Upon the grass should say, 
"What cao a little dewdrop do? 

I'd better roll awayl" 
The blade on which it rested. 

Before the day was done. 
Without a drop to moLsten it. 

Would wither in the sun. 


I20 Poems of Youth and Age 

Suppose the little Breezes, 
■ Upon a summer's day, 
Should think themselves too small to cool 

The traveller on his way: 
Who would not miss the smallest 

And softest ones that blow, 
And think they made a great mistake 

It they were acting so? 

How many deed of kindness 

A little child can do, 
Although it has but little strength 

And little wisdom too! 
It wants a loving spirit 

Much more than strength, to prove 
How many things a child may do 

For others by its love. 

Epes Sargent [1813-1 


A LION with the heal oppressed, 

One day composed himself to rest: 

But while he dozed as he intended, 

A mouse, his royal back ascendedi 

Nor thought of harm, as .^^p tells. 

Mistaking him for someone else; 

And travelled over him, and round him. 

And might have left him as she found him 

Had she not — tremble when you hear— 

Tried to explore the monarch's ear! 

Who straightway woke, with wrath immense, 

And shook his head to cast her thence. 

"You rascal, what are you about?" 

Said he, when he had turned her out, 

"I'll teach you soon," the lion said, 

"To make a mouse-hole in my head!" 

So saying, he prepared his foot 

To crush the trembling tiny brute; 


The Boy and the Woif lai 

But she (tbe mouse) with tearful eye. 
Implored the Hon's clemency, 
Who thought it best at last to give 
His Uttie prisoner a reprieve. 

'Twas nearly twelve months after this, 
Tbe Hon chanced bis way to miss; 
When pressmg forward, heedless yet. 
He got entangled in a net. 
With dreadful rage, he stamped and tore. 
And straight commenced a lordly roar; 
When the poor mouse, who heard the noise, 
Attended, (or she knew his voice. 
Then what the lion's utmost strength 
Could not effect, she did at length; 
With patient labor she applied 
Her teeth, the network to divide; 
And so at last forth issued he, 
A lion, by a mouse set free. 

Few are so small or weak, I guess. 
But may assist us in distress. 
Nor shall we ever, if we're wise. 
The meanest, or the least despise. 

Jffrtys Taylor |i7Itf-i8S3l 


A LITTLE Boy was set to keep 

A little flock of goats or sheep; 

He thought the task too solitary. 

And took a strange perverse vagary: 

To call the people out of fun, 

To see them leave their work and run. 

He cried and screamed uritb all bis might, — 

"Wolf! wolf I" in a pretended fright. 

Some people, working at a distance, 

Canft running in to his assistance. 

They searched the fields and hushes round, 

The Wolf was noiAere to be found. 


132 Poems of Youth and Age 

The Boy, delighted with his game, 

A few days after did the sarae, 

And once again the people came. 

The trick was many limes repeated. 

At last they found that they were cheated. 

One day the Wolf appeared in sight, 

The Boy was in a real fright, 

He cried, "Wolf! wolf!" — the neighbors heard, 

But not a single creature stirred. 

This shows the bad effect of lying. 

And likewise of continual crying. 

If I had heard you scream and roar. 

For nothing, twenty times before. 

Although you might have brake your ann. 

Or met with any serious hann. 

Your cries could give me no alarm; 

They would not make me move the faster. 

Nor apprehend the least disaster; 

I should be sorry when I came. 

But you yourself would be to blame. 

Jelin Hookimm Frcrc [176Q-1S46I 


AucrsTUS was a chubby ladj 
Fat, ruddy chcelis Augustus had; 
And everj-body saw with joy 
The plump and hearty, healthy boy. 
He ate and drank as he was told. 
And never let his soup get cold. 

p-hy Google 

The Story of Little Suckr^arthumb 1^23, 

But one 6a,y, ooe cold winter's 'day. 

He screamed out— " Take the soup away! 

taLe the nuty soup away! 

1 won 't have any aoup to-day." 

Nextd^ begins bis tale of woes; 
Quite lank and lean Augustus grows. 

s loud as he is able, — 
"Not any soup for mc, I say: 

take the nasty soup away! 

1 won 't have any soi^ to-day." 

Look at him, now the fourth day's come! 
He scarcely weighs a sugar-pUun; 
He's like a little bit of thread, , 
And on the fifth day, he was — dead! 
Prom lie German of HeinHck Hodman 11798-1874) 


One day, mamma sairlr "Conrad dear, 
I must go out and leave you here. 
But mind now, Conrad, what I say, 
Don't suck your thumb while I'm away. 
The great tall tailor always comes 
To little boys that suck their thumbs^ 
And ere they dreamwhathe's at)ont, 
He takes hid great sharp scissors om 
And cNla their thumbs dean oS, — and then, 
YoukiiOiW, they never grow again." 


124 Poems of Youth and Age 

Mamma had scarcely turned h«r back, 
The thumb was in, alackl alack! 
The door flew open, in he ran, 
The great, long, red-legged scissoEs-maii. 
Ob, children, see! the tailor's come 
And caught our little Suck-a-Thumb. 
Snip! snap! snip! the scissore go; 
And Conrad cries out — "Oh! oh! oh!" 

Snip! snap! snip! They go so fast. 
That both his thumbs are'ofl at last. 
Mamma comes home; there Conrad stands. 
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands; — 
"Ahl" said mamma, "I knew he'd come 
To nau^ty little Suck-a-Thumb," ' 

From the German of Ileinrick Ho£man \\ J9B-1874] 


Hearts good and true 

Have wishes few 
In narrow circles bounded, 

And hope that lives 

On what God gives 
Is Christian hope well founded. 

Small things are best; 

Grief and unrest 
To rank and wealth are given; 

But little thing; 

On little wings 
Bear little souls to heaven. 

Fredrrick William Faber [I'Su-iSOj) 

My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, 
Went round about the house to find 

A chink to set her foot in; 
She tried the keyhole in the door, 
She tried the crevice in the floor, 

And drove the chimney soot in. 


A Farewell 125 

And then one night whenjt was dark 
She blew up such a tiny spark 

That all the town was bothered; 
From it she raised such flame aad smoke 
That many in great terror woke. 

And many more were smothered. 

And tbus when once, my little dea,rs, 
A whisper reaches itching ears — 

The same will oome, you'll find: 
Take my advice, restrain the tongue, 
Remember what old nurse has sung 

Of busy Lady Wind. 



SiiALL service is true service while it lasts: 
Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one: 
The daisy, by the shadow that It casts, 
Protects the lingering dcwdrop from the sun. 

Willum Wardsworlh I1770-18S0] 


My fairest child, I have no song to give you; 

No lark could pipe to skies so du!! and gray: 
Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I 'U leave you 
For every day. 

m tell you how to sing a clearer carol 

Tllan lark who hails the dawn on breezy down; 
To cam yourself a purer poet 's laurel 
Than Shakespeare's crown. 

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; 
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: 
And so mtke Life, and Death, and that For Ever 
One grand sweet song. 

Charla KUigiity {i.6i9-i^is\ 

p hyGoogle 



PiMNG down the valleys wild, 
Piping soags of pleasant ^ee, 

On a cloud I saw a child, 
And he laughing said to me: 

"Pipe a song about a lamb!" 
So I piped with merry cheer. 

"Piper, pipe that song again;" 
So i piped; he w^t to hear. 

"Drop thy pipe, iby happy pipe; 

Sing thy songs of happy cheer!" 
So I sang the same again, 

While he wept with joy to hear. 

"Piper, sit thee down and write 

In a book (hat all may read." 

So he vanished from my sight; 

And I plucked a hollow reed, 

And I made a rural pen. 

And I stained the water clear. 
And I wrote my happy songs 

Every child may joy to hear. , 

WiUiam Blake \175j-i 


GHEAt, wide, beautiful, wondetfuf World, ' 
With the wonderful water round you curled. 
And the wonderful grass upon your breast. 
World, you are beautifully dressed. 


the Wwld's Music 127 

lite wonderful air is over me. 
And the wonderitd vmd is shaking the tree- 
It walks on the wster, and whids the milb. 
And talks to itself on the tops of the hiUs. 

You friendly Earth, how far do you go, 

Wth the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow, 

With cities and gardens, and cHSs and istes, 

And petfile upon you for thousands of mites? 

Ah! you are so great, and I am so small, 

I tremble to think of you, Worid, at all; 

And yet, when I said my prayers to-day, 

A whisper inside me seemed to say, 

" You are more than the Earth, though you are sudi a dot : 

You can love titd think, and the Earth cannoti " 

Wiiliam BriglUy Randt [Oxi-iiSi] 

The worid 's a very happy place, 

Where every child should dance and ung. 
And always have a smiMnj; face, 

And never sulk for anything, 

I waken when the momiiig'B oHne, 

And feel the air and hgfat alive 
With strange sweet muse like the hum 

Of bees about their busy hive. 

The linnets play among the leaves 
At hide-and-seek, and chirp and sing; 

While, flashing to and from the caves, 
The swallows twitter on the wing. 

The twigs that ^akc, and boughs that sway; 

And tail old trees you could not dimfa; 
And winds that cook, but cannot stay, 

Are gaily siogiBg aU the time. 


lii Poems of Youth and Age 

From dawn to dark the dd mill-wheel 
Makes music, going round and round;- 

And dusty-white with flour and meal. 
The miller whistles to its sound. 

And if you listen to the rain 

When leaves and birds and l>ees are dumb, 
You hear it pattering on the pane 

Like Andrew beating on bis drum. 

The coals beneath the kettle croon, 
And clap their hands and dance in glee; 

And even the kettle hums a tune 
To tell you when it's time for tea. . 

The world is siich a happy place, 
That children, whether big or small. 

Should always have a smiling face. 
And never, never sulk at all. 

Gabriel Seloun [1861- 

Wheke the pools are bright and deep, 
Where the gray trout liee asleep, 
Up the river and over the lea, 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

Where the blackbird sings the latest. 
Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest. 
Where the nestlings chirp and flee. 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

Where the mowers mow the cleanest. 
Where the hay lies thick and greenest. 
There to track the homeward bee, 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

Where the hazel bank is steepest, 
Where the shadow falls the deepest. 
Where the clustering nuts fall free, 
That 's the way for Billy and me. 


Going Down Hill on a Bicycle 129 

Why the boys should drive iaway 
Little sweet mddena from the play, 
Of love to banter and gght so wcU, 
That 's the thing I never coald tdi. 

But this I know, I love to play 
Through the meadow, among the hay; 
Up the wster and over the lea, 
That 's the may ior Billy and me. 


With lifted feet, hands still, 
I am poised, and down the bill 
Dart, with heedful mind; 
The air goes by in a wind. 

Swifter and yet more swift, 
Till the heart with a mighty lift 
Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:— 
"0 bird, see; sec, bird, I fly. 

"Is this, is this your joy? 
bird, then I, though a boy. 
For a golden moment share 
Your feathery life in air! " 

Say, heart, is there aught like this 
In a world that is full of bliss? 
Tis more than skating, bound 
Steel-shod to the level ground. 

Speed slackens now, I float 
Awhile in my airy boat; 
Till, when the nheeb scarce ^niwl, 
My feet'to the treadles fall. 

p:hy Google 

ija Poems of Youth' and Age 

Alas, that the longest hill 
Must end in a vale; but still, 
Who climbs with toil, wheiwoe'er. 
Shall find wings wajtiog there. 

Eenry Ckarlts Btecking {ttsv- 


In summei I am very glad 

We children are so small, 
For we can see a thousand things 

That men can't see at all. 

They don't know much about the moss 
And all the stones they pass: 

They never lie and play among 
The foiests in the grass: 

They walk about a long way off; 

And, when we're at the sea. 
Let father stoop as best he can 

He can't find things like me. 

But, when the snow is on the ground 

And all the puddles freeze, 
I wish that I were very tall, 

High up above the trees. 

Laurence Alma-Tadema |iS - 


Who has seen the wind? 

Neither I nor you: 
But when the leaves hang trembling, 

The wind is passing through. 

Who has seen the wind? 

Neither you nor I: 
But when the trees bow down thdr h^ds, 

The wind is passing by. 

Ckritkna Georgitta RossOH IiSjo-iSq^ 


The Wind's Song 


WINDS that blow across the sea, 
What is the story that you bring? 

Leaves clap their hands on every tree 
And birds about their branches sing. 

Vou sing to floweis and trees and birds 
Your .sea-songs over all the land. 

Could you not stay and whisper vtorda '■ 
A little child might understand? 

The roaa nod to heu you siugi 
But though I listen all the day, 

You never tell me anything 
Of father's ship so far away. 

Its masts are taller than the trees; 

Its sails are silver ia the sun; 
There's not a ship upon the seas 

So beautiful as father's one. 

Witb wings ^rcad out it flies so fast 
It leaves the waves all white with foam. 

Just whisper to me, blowing past, 
If you have seen it sailing home. 

1 feel your breath upon my cheek. 
And in my hair, and on my brow. 

Dear winds, if you could only speak, 
I know that you would tell mc now. 

My father's coming home, you'd say. 
With precious presents, one, two, three; 

A shawl for mother, beads for May, 
And eggs and shells for R<^ and me. 

The winds sing songs where'er they roam; 

The leaves all clap their tittle hands; 
For father's ship is coming home 

With wondrcmt things frem foceign landt. 
Gabriel Sttoim ltS6i- 


132 ■ Poems of Youth and Age 

A child's song 

There sits a piper on the hill 

Who pipes the livelong day, 
And when he pipes both loud and shrill, 

The frightened people say: 
"The wind, the wind is blowing up 

Tis rising to a gale." 
The women hurry to the shore 

To watch some distant sail. 
The viind, the wind, the wind, Hit wind. 

Is blowing to a gale. 

But when he pipes all sweet and low. 

The piper on the hill, 
I hear the merry women go 

With laughter, loud and shrill: 
"The wind, the wind is coming south 

'Twill blow a gentle day." 
They gather on the meadow-laad 

To toss the yellow hay. 
The wind, the wind, Ike wind, the wind. 

Is blowing south to-day. 

And in the mom, when winter comes, 

To keep the piper warm, 
The little Angels shake their wings 

To make a feather storm: 
"The snow, the snow has come at last!'' 

The happy children coll. 
And "ring around" they dance in glee, 

And watch the snowtlakes fall. 
Tht vind, the wind, the wind, the wind, 

Has spread a snoviy poll. 

But rfien at night the piper plays, 

I have not any fear, 
Beouise God 's windows open wide 

The jwctty tune to hear; 


The Wind and the Moori 133 

And vben each crowdiog spirit lodu. 

From its star window-paae, 
A watching mother may behold 

Her little cliild agaiii. 
Th« vntid, Ihe wmi, Ike wmd, Iht icind, ■ 

Uay blow her home again. 

Dora Sigtrson Shorter [18 - 


Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out; 

You stare 

In the air 

Like a ghost in a chair, 
Always looking what I am about — 
I hate to be WAtcbedj I'll blow you out." 

Tie Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. 

So, deep 

On a heap 

Of clouds to sleep, 
Down lay (he Wind, and Numbered soon. 
Muttering low, "I've done tor that Moon." 

He turned in bis bed; she was there again! 

On high 

In the sky, 

With her one ghost eye. 
The Moon shone white and alive and plain. 
Said the Wind, "I will blow you out again." 

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew doa. 

"With my sledge. 

And my wedge, 

I have knocked off her edge! 
If only I Mow r^t fierce and grim, 
The creature will iood be dimmer than dimj" 

p:hy Google 

134 Poems of Youth and Age 

He blew and he blew, and sh« thinned to a thread. 

"One puff 

More 's enou^ 

To blow her to snufl! 
One good pufi more where the last was bred, 
And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go tbe thread." 

He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone. 

In the air 


Was a moonbeam bare; 
Far off and harmless the shy stars shone — 
Sure and certain the Moon was gone! 

The Wind he took to his revels once more; 

On down. 

In town, 

Like a merry-mad down, 
He leaped and halloed with whistle and roar — 
"What's that?" The glimmering thread once more 

He flew in a rage— he danced and blew; 

But in vain 

Was the pain 

Of his bursting brain; 
For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew. 
The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. 

Slowly she grew— till she tilled the night. 

And shone 

On her throne 

In the sky alone, 
A matchless, wonderful silvery light. 
Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. 

Said the Wind : ' ' What a marvel of pow» am I! 

With my breath, 

Good faith ! 

I blew her to deatfi — 
First blew her away right out of the aky— 
Then blew her in; what stiength have 11" 


Baby Seed Song 135 

But the Moon die knew nothing about the tSaii; 
For high 
In the sky, 
With faer one white eye. 

I love him best of alll 

Edith XeibU [iSs^ 


LmtE brown brother, oh! little brown brother, 

Are you awake in the dark? 
Here we lie cosily, close to each other: 

Hark to the song of the lark — 
"Waken!" the lark says, "waken and dress you; 

Put on your greec costs and gay. 
Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress yeu — 

Waken! 'tis morning — 'ti»Mayl" 


rjfi Poems of Youth and Age 

Little brown brother, oh I little brown brother, 

What kind of flower will you be? 
I'll be a poppy — all while, like my mother; 

Do be a poppy like me. 
What! you're a sun-flower? How I shall miss you 

When you're grown gcdden and high! 
But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; 

Little brown brother, good-bye. 

Edilh NesbU [1858- 


Gay little Dandelion , 

Lights up the meads, 

Swings on her slender toot, 

Tellelh her beads, 
Lists to the robin's note _ ■ 

Poured from above; 
Wise little Dandelion 

Asks not for love. 
Cold lie the daisy banks 

Clothed but in green, 
Where, in the days agone. 

Bright hues were seen. 
Wild pinks are slumbering, 

Violets delay; 
True little Dandelion 

Greeteth the May. 
Brave little Dandelion! 

Fast falls the snow. 
Bending the daffodil's 

Haughty head low. 
Under that fleecy tent, 

Careless of cold. 
Blithe little Dandelion 

Countcth her gold. 
• Meek little Dandelion 

Groweth mare fair, 
Till dies the arabCT dew 

Out from her hair. 

p:hy Google 

'Little White Lily jyj' 

High rides the thirsty si 
Fiercely and high; 

Funt little Dandelion 
Closeth her eye. 

Pale little Dandelion, 


Tiom •■ Witliio and Without " 

LmLE White Lily sat by a stone, 
DroopiDg and waiting till the sun shone.. 
Little White Lily sunshine has fed; 
Little White Lily is lifting her head. 

Little White Lily said: "It is good, 
Little White Lily's clothing and food." 
Little White Lily dressed like a bride! 
Shining with whiteness, and crowned beside! 
Little White Idly drooping with pain, 
Waiting and waiting for the wet rain, 
Little While Lily hddeth her cup; 
Rain is fast falling and filling it up. 

Little White Lily said: "Good again, 
When I am thirsty to have the nice rain. 
Now I am stronger, now I am cool; 
Heat cannot bum me, my veins are so full.'" 


p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 

Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose, 
A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the Springl 
The stooping bough above me. 
The wandering bee to love me, 
The fem and moss to creep across. 
And the Elm-tree for our KingI 

Nay, — stay! I wish I were an E3m-tree, 
A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay! 

The winds would set them dancing. 

The sun and moonshine glance in. 
The Birds would house among the boughs. 
And sweetly sing! 

O — no! I wish I were a Robin, 
A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to go; 

Through forest, field, or garden. 

And ask no leave or pardon. 
Till Winter comes with icy thumbs 
To ruffle up our wing. 

Well— teU! Where should lily lo, 
Where go to sleep in the dark, wood or dell? 
Before a day was over. 
Home comes the rover. 
For Mother's kiss, — sweeter this 
Than any other thing! 

William Atlintkim {1814-1889! 

I SPIED beside the garden bed 

A tiny iass of ours, 
Wlio stopped and bent her sunny head 

Above the red June flowers. 

Pusbiag the leaves and thorns apart, 

She singled out a rose. 
And in its inmost crimson heart, 

EnrAptured, plunged her nose. 


Gkd Day 139 

"0 dear, dear rose, «»ne, tell me tnie — 

Come, teU vae true," said afae, 
"If I smell just as sweet to you 

As you smell sweet to mel" 

Emat Crosby [iSs6-igo7l 


Is this a time to be doady and sad, 
When out mother Nature laughs around; 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad , 
And gladness breathes from the blossominig ground? 

Here are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren. 
And the gossp of swallows through all the sky; 

The ground-squirrel gaity chirps by his den, 
And the wilding bee biuns merrily by. 

The ckiuds are at play in the azure space 
And thdr shadows at play on the bright-green vale. 

And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
And there they roll on the easy gale. 

Hiere's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, 
Here's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, 

Tliere's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower. 
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 

And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 

On the leaping waters and gay young Isles; 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom awsty. 

Wiiliam CuOat Bryant 11794-1878} 


Here's another day, dear, 
Here's the sun again 
Peeping ifi his pleasant way 
Through the window panei 


i40 Poems of Youth and Age 

Rise and let him id, dvai. 
Hail him "hjp hurray! " 
Now the fun will all b^n. 
Here's another day! 

Down the coppice path, dear. 
Through the dewy glade, 

(When the Morning took her bath 
What a splash she made!) 
Up the wet wood-way, dear, 
Under dripping green 

Run to meet another day. 

Mushrooms in the field, dear, 

Show their silver gjeam. 
What a dainty crop they yidd 

Firm as clouted cream, 

Cool a^ balls of snow, dear. 

Sweet and fresh and round! 
Ere the early dew can go 

We must clear the ground. 

Such a lot to do, dear. 

Such a lot to see! 
How we ever can get through 

Fairly puzzles me. 

Hurry up and out, dear. 

Then— away! away! 
In and out and round about. 

Here's another day! 

W. Graham Robtrlson |j867- 


Tigek! Tigerl burning bright, 
In the forests of the night, 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 

p:hy Google 

Answer to a Child's Question I41 

In what distant deeps or skies 
Burnt the fire of thine eyes? 
On what wings dare he aapire? 
What the hand dare seize the fire? 

And what shoulder, and what art. 
Could twist the ttnewe of thy heart? 
And when thy heart began to beat, 
What dread hand and what dread teet? 

What the hammer? what the chain? 
In what furnace was thy brain? 
What the anvil? what dread grasp 
Dare its deadly terrors clasp? 

When the stars threw down their spears. 
And watered heaven with their tears, 
Did He smile His work to see? 
Did He wio made the Lamb, make thee? 

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 
In the forests of the oigbt. 
What immortal hand or eye 
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? 

William Blake I17S7-1817I 


Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove, 

The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and Hove!" 

In the winter they're silent — the wind is so strong; 

What it sa>-s, I don't know, but it sings a toud song. 

But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, 

And singing, and loving— flU come back together. ' 

But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love, 

llw green fields below him, the blue sky above, 

Tlut be sings, and he sings, and for ever sings he — 

"Hove my Love, and my Love loves me!" 

Samu^ Taylor Coleridge [i7Ta-i834| 


Poems of Youth and Ago 

I'll tell you bow the leaves cune down. 

The great Tree to bis children said: 
"You're getting sleepy. Yellow and Brown, 

Yes, very sleepy, little Red, 

It b quite time to go to bed." 
"Ah!" begged each silly, pouting leaf, 

"Let us a little longer stay; 
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief! 

Tis such a very pleasant day. 

We do not wsnt to go away." 
So, just for one more merry day 

To the great Tree the leaflets dung. 
Frolicked and danced, and bad their way, 

Upon the autumn breezes swung, 

Whispering all their sports among — 
" Perhaps the great Tree wHl forget, 

And let us stay until the spring, 
If we all beg, and coax, and fret," 

But the great Tree did no such thing; 

He smiled to hear them whispering. 
"Come, children, all to bed," he cried; 

And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, 
He shook his head, and far and wide, 

Fluttering and rustling everywhere, 

Down sped the leaflets through the air. 
I saw them ; on the ground they lay, 

Golden and red, a huddled swarm, 
Waitbg till one from far away. 

While bedclothes heaped upon her arm. 

Should come to wrap them safe and warm. 
The great bare Tree looked down and smiled. 

" Goodnight, dear little leaves," he said. 
And from below each sleepy child 

Replied, "Goodnight," and murmured, 

"It is JO nice to go to bedl" 

Siuan CtKiidfe liS45->905] 


A Legehd of the Northland 14.3 


Away, away in the Northland, 
Where the hours of the day are few, 

And the nights are bo long in winter 
That they cannot sleep them through; 

Where they haraeu the swilt reindeer 
To the sledges, when it snows; 

And the children Took like bear's cubs 
In their funny, furry clothes: 

They tell them a carious story — 

I don't believe 'ti^ true; 
And yet you may learn a lesson 

If I tell the tale to you. ; 

Once, when the good Saint Peter 

LrKd bi the world below. 
And walked about it, preaching. 

Just as he did, you know, 

He came to the door of a cottage. 
In traveling round the earth. 

Where a little woman was making cakes, 
And baking them on the hearth^ 

And being faint with fasting. 
For the day was almost done, 

He asked her, from het store of cakes. 
To give him a single one. 

So she made a very little cake, 

But as it baking lay, 
She looked at it, and thought it seemed 

Too large to give away. 

Therefore she kneaded another. 

And still a smaller one; 
But it looked, when she turned it over, 

As large as the first had done. 


; 144 Poems of Youth and Age 

Then she took a tiny scrap of dough, 

And rolled and rolled il fUt; 
And baked it thin as a wafer — 

But she couldn't part with that. 

For she said, "My cakes that seem too small 

When I eat of them myself, 
Are yet too large to give away." 

So she put them oo the ahelf. 

Then good Saint Peter grew angry, 

For he was hungry and faint; 
And surely such a woman 

Was enough to provoke a saiat. 

And he said, "You are far too selfish 

To dwell in a human fDrm, 
To have both food and shelter, 

And fire to keep you warm. 
"Now, you shall build as the birds do, 

And shall get your scanty food 
By boring, and boring, and boring. 

All day in the hard, dry wood." 
Then up she went through the chimney, 

Never speaking a word, 
And out of ihe top flew a woodpecker, 

For she was changed to a bird. 

She had a scarlet cap on her head, 

And that was left the same, . 
But all the rest of her clothes were burned 

Black as a coal in the flame. 
And every country school-boy 

Has seen her in the wood. 
Where she lives in the trees till this very day, 

Boring and boring for food. 
And this is the lesson she t«aches: . 

Live not for yourself alone, 
Lest the needs you will not pity 

Shall one day be your own. 


The Cricket's Story 145 

Give plenty of »iat is given to you, 

Listen to pity's call; 
Don't think the little you give is great. 

And the much you get is small. 

Now, ray little boy, remember that. 

And try to be kind and good, 
When you see the woodpecker's sooty dress. 

And see her scarlet hood, 

Vou mayn't be dianged to a bird though you live 

As selfishly as you can; 
But you win be changed to a. smaller thing — 

A mean and selfish man. 

Pktiie Cory li»)4~jg7i] 

The high and mighty lord of Gtendare, 
The owner of acres both broad and fair, 
Searched, once on a time, his vast domains. 
His deep, green forest, and yellow plains. 
For some raresinger, to make complete 
The studied charms of his country-seat; 
But found, for tdl his pains and labors, 
No sweeter songster than had his neighbors. 

Ah, what ^udl my lord of the manor do? 

He pondered the day and the whole night through. 

He called on the gentry of hill-top and dale; 

And at last on Madame the Nightingale, — 

Inviting, in his miijesticaJ way, 

Her pupils to sing at his grand soiree, 

That pertjiance among them my lord might find 

Some singer to whom his heart inclined. 

What wonder, then, when the evening came. 

And the castle gardens were all aflame 

With the imuiy curious li^ts that hung 

O'er the ivied pordies, and Bared among 

Hie gi&nd old trees and the banners proud. 

That many a heart beat high and loud, 


146 Poems of Youth and Age 

While the famous choir of Glendare Bog, 
Established and led by the Brothers Prog, 
Sat thrumming as hoarsely as they were abte, 
In front of the manager's mushroom tabl«l 

The overture closed with a crash— then, harict 
Across the stage comes the sweet-voiced Lark. 
She daJDtUy sways, with an airy grace, 
And flutters a bit of gossamer lace. 
While the leafy alcove echoes and thrills 
With her liquid runs and lingering trills. 
Miss Goldfinch came next, in her .satin gown, 
And shaking her feathery flounces down, 
With much expression and feeling sung 
Some "Oh's" and " Ah's" in a foreign tongue; 
While to give the affair a classic tone. 
Miss Katydid rendered a song of her own, 
In which each line closed as it bad begun, 
With some wonderful deed which she had done. 
Then the Misses Sparrow, so prim and set, 
Twittered and chirped through a long duet; 
. And poor little Wren, who tried with a will. 
But who couldn't tell "Heber" from "Ononvillc," 
Unconscious of sarcasm, piped away 
And courtesied low o'er a huge bouquet 
Of crimson clover-heads, culled by the dozen, 
By some brown-coated, plebeian cousin. 

But yoit should have heard the red RoUn ang 
His English ballad, "Come, beautiful %)ringl" 
And Master Owlet's melodious tunc, 
"O, meet me under the silvery moon!" 
Then, as flighty Miss Humming-bird didn't caie 
To sing for the high and mighty Glendare, 
The close of the evening's performance fell 
To the fair young Nightingale, MademoiaeJle, 
Ah! the wealth of each wonderful note 
That came from the depths of her tiny throKtl 
She carolled, she trilled, and she held her bicath. 
Till she seemed to hang at the point of death: 


■ The Snging-lesson ' 147 

She ran the chromatics tbraugfa every keji, 

And ended triumfrftant on upper C; 

Airing the graces her niother hid taoght her 

Id a manner quite worthy of Madamefs dau^ter. 

But his lordship glared do^n the leafy a»le 

With never so much as a nod or smile, 

Till, out in the shade of a bilberry thicket. 



le a mistake; 
She sang a few notes out of tone; 
Her heart was ready to bieal. 
And she irid away from the moon. 


1+8 Poems of Youth and Age 

She wrung her claws, poor thing! 

But was far too proud to weep; 
She tucked her head under her wmg, 

And pretended to be asleep. 

A lark, arm in arm with a thrush, 

Came sauntering up to the place; 
The nightingale (elt herself blush, 

Though feathere hid her face. 
She knew they had heard her song, 

She felt them snicker and sneer; 
She thought that life was too long. 

And wished she could skip a year. 

"(Ml, Nig^itingale," cooed a dove— 

"Oh, Nightingale, what's the use? 
You bird of beauty and love, 

Why behave like a goose? 
Don't skulk away from our sight, 

Like a common, contemptiWe fowl; 
You bird of joy and delight, 

Why behave like an owl? 

"Only think of all you have done, 

Only think of all you can do; 
A false note is really fun 

From such a bird as you! 
Lift up your proud little crest, 

Open your musical beak; 
Other birds have to do their best- 

You need only to speak." 

The nightingale shyly took 

Her head from under her wing, 
And, giving the dove a look. 

Straightway began to sing. 
There wu never a bird could pass; 

The night was divinely calm. 
And the people stood on the grass 

To hear that wonderful psalm. 


Chanticleer 149 

The ni^tingale did not care; 

She odIj' sang Co the ikies; 
Her song ascended there, 

And there she Axed her eyes. 
The people that stood below 

She knew but little about; 
And this tale has a moral, I know. 

If you'll try to find it out. 

Jiaii luititJB [iSio-iaB?] 


Or all the birds from East to West • 

That tuneful are and dear, 
I love that farmyard bird the best. 

They call him Chanticleer. 

Gaid plume and copper plume. 

Comb of scarlet gay; 
'Tis he Ihat scatters night and gloom, 

And wkislles back the day! 

He is the sun's brave herald 

That, ringing his blithe horn. 
Calls round a world dew-pearled 

The heavenly airs of mom. 

clear gold, shrill and bold! 

He calls through creeping mist 
The mountains from the night and cold 

To rose and amethyst. 

He sets the birds to singing, 

And calls the flowers to rise; 
Tile momiog rometh, bringing 

Sweet Eleq> to heavy eyes. 

Cold plume and stiver plume, 

Comb 0/ coral gay; 
'Tis he packs of Ihe night and gloom, 

And summons home ihe day! 

p hyGoogle 

150 poems of Youth and Age 

Black fear he sends it flying. 
Black care he drives alar; 

And creeping shadows sighing 
Before the morning star. 

The birds of all the forest 

Have dear and pleasant cheer. 

But yet I hold the rarest 
The farmyard Chanlideer. 

Red cock or black cock. 

Gold cock or while, 
TheftimeroJaUUteJealheredfioch, ■■ 

He whislies back the ligktl 

Katharine Tynan I1861- 


From " Sea Drewni " 

What does little birdie say 
In her nest at peep of day? 
Let me fly, says little birdie, 
Mother, let me fly away. 
Birdie, rest a little longer, 
Till the little wings are stronger. 
So she rests a iitUe longer, 
Then she flies away. 

What does little baby say. 
In her bed at peep of dayi* 
Baby says, like little birdie, 
Let me dsfrand fly away. 
Baby, ^eep a little longer. 
Till the little limbs ate stronger. 
If she ^eeps a little longer. 
Baby too shall fly away. 

Alfred Tamys^a [i8oi)-i89jJ 


Jack Frost 


When the voices of children are heard on the green 

And Uughing is heard on the hill, 
My heart is at rest within my breast, 

And everything else b stiU. 

Then come home, my children, the sun is gene down, 
And the dews of the night arise; 
Come, come, leave off play, and let us away 
TSl the morning appears in the skies." 

" No, no, let ua play, for it is yet day, 

And we cannot go to sleep; 
Besides in the sky the h'ttle birds fly, 

And the hills are all covered with sheep," 

" Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, 

And then go home to bed." 
ITie little ones leaped and shouted and laughed; 

And all the hills cchoM, 

Wmiam Blake [1757-1897) 


The door was shut, as doors should be. 
Before you went to bed last night; 

Yet Jack Frost ha& got. in, you sec. 
And left your window silver white. 

He mi II you slept; 

Ant 1 he spoke. 

But p anes and crept 

Awi TO woke. 

And now you cannot see the hills 
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane; 

But there are fairer thio^ than these 
His fingers traced on every pone. 


152 Poems of Youth and Age 

Rocks and castles towering high; 

Hills and daJes, and streams and fields; 
And knights in annor riding fay, 

With nodding plumes and shining shields. 

And here are little boats, and there 

Big ships with sails spread to the breeae; 

And yonder, palm trees waving fair 
On islands set in silver seas. 

And butterflies with gauzy wings; 

And herds of cows and flocks of sheep; 
And fruit and flowers and all the things 

You see when you are sound asle^. 

For creeping softly underneath 
The door when ail the lights are out. 

Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe. 
And knows the things you think about. 

He paints them on the window pane 
In (airy lines with frozen sicam; 

And when you wake you see again 
The lovely things you saw in dream. 

Cabrid SOoun (1S61- 


October gave a party; 

The leaves by htmdtcds came— 
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, 

And leaves of every name. 
The Sunshine spread a carpet, 

And everything was grand. 
Miss Weather led the dancing. 

Professor Wind the band. 

* Tlie Chestnuts came in yellow. 
The Oaks in crimson dressed; 
The lovely Misses Maple 
In scarlet looked their best; 


Nikdiiu IJ3 

All balanced to their partners. 

And gaily fluttered by; 
tlie sight was like a rainbow 

New fallen from the sky. 

Then, in the rustic hoUow, 

At hide-and-seek they played, 
The party closed at sundown, 

And everybody stayed. 
Profeasor Wind played louder; 

They Jew along the ground; 
And then the party ended 

In jolly "hands around." 

George Cooper I1840- 

How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet ioti 
From the morn to the evening he strays; 
He shall foUow his sheep alt the day, 
And his tongue shall be filled witb praise. 
For he hears the lamb's innocent call, 
And he hears the ewe's tender reply; 
He is watchful, while they aic in peace, 
For they know when tbdr Shepherd is nigh. 

William Blakt [1757-1817 

Otell me, little children, have you seen her — 
The tiny maid from Norway, NikolinaP 
0, her eyes are blue as cornflowers, mid the com, 
And her cheeks are rosy red as skies of morn! 
Nikolina! swiff she turns if any call her, 
Pis she stands among the poppies, hardly taller, 
Breaking off their scarlet cups for you, 
With spikes of slender larkspur, burning blue. 
In her little garden many a flower is growing- 
Red, gold, and pur^de in the soft wind blowing. 
But the child that stands anud the blossoms gay 
Is sweeter, quainter, brighter e'en than Ibey. 

COia Tkaxter 11835-1834 


154 Poems of Youth and Age 

Little Gustava sits in the sun, 
Safe in the porch, and the L'ttle drops nm 
From the icicles under the eaves so fast, 
For the bright spring sun shines warm at last, 

And glad is little Gustava. 
She wears a quaint little scarlet cap. 
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap, 
Filled with bread and milk to the brim, 
And a wreath of marigolds round the rim: 

"Ha! ha!" laughs little Gustava. 
Up comes her little gray coaxing cat 
With her little pink nose, and she mews, "W 
Gustava feeds her, — she begs for more; 
And a little brown hen walks in at the door: 

"Good dayl" cries little Gustava. 
She scatters crumbs for the little brown hen. 
There comes a rush and a flutter, and then 
Down fly her little white doves so sweet, 
With their snowy wings and crimson feet: 

"Welcome!" cries Utile Gustava. 
So dainty and eager they pick up the crumbs. 
But who is this through the doorway comes? 
Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags, 
Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags: 

"Hal ha!" laughs little Gustava. 
"You want some breakfast too?" and down 
She sets her bowl on the brick floor brown; 
And little dog Rags drinks up faer milk, 
While she strokes his shaggy locks like silk: 

"Dear Rags!" says little Gustava. 
Waiting without stood sparrow and crow, 
Cooling their feet in the melting snow: 
"Won't you come in, good folk?" she cried. 
But they were too bashful, and stood outside 

Tbon^ "Pray come inl" cried Gustava. 


Prince Tatters ^55 

So the last she threw them, and kaelt on the mat 
With doves and biddy and dog and cat. 
And her mother came to the open i)ou3e-door: 
"Dear little daughter, I bring you some more. 
My roeiry little Gustava I " 

Kitty and terrier, biddy and doves. 
All things harmless Gustava loves. 
The shy, kind creatures 'tis joy to feed, 
And oh, her breakfast is sweet indeed 
To happy little Gustava! 

Cetia ThaxUr I1835-18B4I 

Little t his capl 

Over ; 

Into th !" 

N'ow i/i urse may fmne 

For the gay little cap with its eagle plume. 
"One cannot be thinking all day of such matterst 
Trifles are trifles!" says little Prince Tatters. 

Little Prince Tuteis hu lost his coat! 

Playing, he did not need it; 
'"Ldt it rtgAi ihtrt, by the nanny-goat. 

And nobody never seed it!" 
Now Mother and Nurse may search till night 
For the little new coat with its buttons bright; 
But — "Coat-sleeves or shirt-sleeves, how little it mattersi 
Trifles are triflesi" says little Prince Tatters. 

Little Prince Tatters has LOST HIS BAH! 

Rtrfled away down the street! 
Somebodyll have to find it, that's all. 

Before he can sleep or eat. 
Xow raise the neighborhood, quickly, do! 
Sad send for the crier and constable tool 
"Trifles are trifles; but serious matters, 
Tjic^must be seen to," says little Prince Tatters. 

Laura E. Richards I1850- 

p:hy Google 

156 poems of Youth and Age 


My mother bore me in the southern w3d, 
And I am black, but oh, my soul is whitel 

White as an angel Is the English child. 
But I am black, as if bereaved of light. 

My mother taught me uodemeath a tree, 
And, sitting down before the heat of day, 

She look me on her lap and kissdd me, 
And, pointing to the East, began to say: 

"Look on the rising sun, —there God does live, 
And gives His light, and gives His heat away; 

And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive 
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. 

"And we are put on earth a little space. 
That we may learn to bear the beams of love; 

And these black bodies and this sunburnt face 
Are but a cloud, and like a shady grave. 

"For, when our souls have learned the heat lo bear, 
The doud will vanish, we shall hear His voice, 

Saying: 'Come out from the grove. My love and care. 
And round My golden lent like lambs rejoice,' " 

Thus did my mother say, and kissSd me; 

And thus I say to little English boy. 
When I from black, and he from white cloud free. 

And round the tent of God like lambs we joy, 

I'll shade him from the heat, tBl he can bear 
To lean in joy upon our Father's knee; 

And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair. 
And be like him, and he will then love me. 

Wmiam Blakt (i7s7-iSit1 


The Witch in the Glass 


SAY what is that thing called Light, 
Which I must ne'er enjoy; 

What are the blessings of the sight, 
O tell your poor blind boy! 

You talk of wondrous things you see, 
You say the sun shines bright; 

1 feel him warm, but how can he, 
Or make it day or night? 

My day or night myself I make 

Whene'er I sleep or play; 
And could I ever keep awake 

With me 'twere always day. 

With heavy sighs I often hear 

You mourn my hapless woe; 
But sure with patience I can bear 
A loss I ne'er can know. 

Then let not what I cannot have 

My cheet of mind destroy: 
Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, 

Although a poor blind boy. 



"My mother says I must not pass 

Too near that glass; 
She is afraid that I will see 
A little vitrk that looks like me, 
With a ted, red mouth, to wtrisper low 
The very thing I should not knowl'' 

p:hy Google 

158 Poems of Youth and Age 

Alack for all your mother's care! 

A bird of the air, '' 

A wistful wind, or (I suppose 
Sent by some hapless boy) a rose, 
With breath too sweet, will whisper low 
The very thing you should not know! 

Sarah if. B. Piatt [1836- 


I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me. 
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. 
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; 
And I see him jump before mc, when I jump into my bed. 

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow — 
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; 
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball. 
And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him 
at all. 

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play. 
And, can only make a fool of mc in every sort of way. 
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; 
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to 


One morning, very early, before the sun was up, 
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; 
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head. 
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. 
Robert Louis Stevenson (1SS0-1804I 


When I was sick and lay a-bed, 
I had two pillows at my bead. 
And all my toys beside me lay 
To keep me happy all tlie day. 

p:hy Google 

The Land of Story-books 

And sometinies for anhotK or eo 
I watched my le&den soldiers go, 
With di&ercnt uiufornis and drills, 
Among the bed-clothes, thiough the fail 

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets; 
Or brought my trees and houses out. 
And planted ddes all about. 




At evening when the lamp is lit. 
Around the fire my parents sit; 
They sit at home and talk and sing. 
And do not play at anything. 

Now, with my little gun, I crawl 
All in the dadt along the naU, 
And follow round the forest track 
Away behind the sofa back. 

There, in the night, where none can spy 
All in my hunter's camp I lie. 
And play at books that I have read 
Till it is time to go to bed. 

Tbes ic woods, 


And ,k 


As if 


i6o Poems of Youth and Age 

So, wben my nnrse oomes in for m^ 
Home I return across the sea, 
And go to bed vith backward loc^s 
At my dear land of Story-bo(^. 

Robert Louis Siatenson (1850-1894) 


The gardener does not love to talk. 

He makes me keep the gravel walk; 

And when he puts his tools away. 

He locks the door and takes the key. 

Away behind the currant row 

Where no obe else but cook may go, 

Far in the plots, I see him dig. 

Old and serious, brown and big. 

He digs the flowers, green, red, and bhie. 

Nor wi^cs to be spoken to. 

He digs the flowers and cuts the hay, 

And never seems lo want to play. 

Silly gardener! summer goes, 

And winter comes with pinching toes, 

When in the garden bare and brown 

You must lay your barrow down. 

Well now, and while the summer stays, 

To profit by these garden days 

O how much wiser you would be 

To play at Indian wars with met 

Robert Louis Slaenson (1850-1894) 

Up info the cherry tree 
Who should climb but little mc7 
I held the trunk with both my hands 
And looked abroad on foreign lands. 
I saw the next door garden lie, 
Adorned with flowers, before ray eye. 
And many pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 


The Peddler's Caravan 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky's blue looking-glass; 
The dusty roods go up and down 
With people tramping in to town. 
It I could find a higher tree. 
Farther and farther I should see, 
To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships; 


But when the day teturns at last. 
Sate in my room, beside Ihe pier, 
I find my vessel fast. 

RBbcrl Loait Slnatsei li|(3-i8o4l 

I WISH I lived in a caravan. 
With a botse to drive, like a peddler-man! 
Where he comes from nobody knows, 
Or where he goes to, but on he goes! 

p:hy Google 

a Poems of Youth and Age 

His caravan has windows two, 

And a chimney of tin, that the smoke oomes throu^; 

He has a wife, with a baby brown. 

And they go riding from town to town. 

Chairs to mend, and delf to selll 
He clashes the basins Uke a bell; 
Tea-trays, baskets ranged in order, 
Ptatcs, with alphabets round the borderl 

The roads are brown, and the sea is green. 
But his house is like a bathing-machine; 
The world is round, and he can ride, 
Rumble and slash, to the other side! 

With the peddlcr-man I should like to roam, 
And write a book when 1 came home; 
AU the people would read my book, 
Tust like the Travels of Captain Cookf 

William Brighly Rands [i8aa-i88il 


A WATCH will tell the time of day, 
Or tell it nearly, any way. 
Excepting when it's overwound, 
Or when you drop it on the ground. 

If any of our watches stop, 
We haste to Mr. Coggs's shop; 
For though to scold us he pretends, 
He's quite among our f^ecial friends. 

He fits a dice-box in his eye, 

And takes a long and thou^tful spy, 

And prods the wheels, and says, "Dear, dear! 

More careleesness, I greatly fear." 

And then he lays the dice-box down 
And frowns a most prodigious frown; 
But if we ask him what's the time, 
He'll make his g<^d repeater chime. 

Edmrd VaraU Lwcai Fi86S< 


"There Was a Jolly Miller" 163 


They'll come a^ia to tlie apple tree — 

Robin and all the rest — 
When the orchard branches are fair to see. 


From " Love io t Village" 

Thue was a joUy mltter once livedon the river Dee; 

He danced and sang from mom till ni^t, no lark so blithe 

as he; 
And CUs the bordcn of his sonf; forever ased to be: — 
"I care for nobody, ao not I, if ntfxxly cares for tne. 

,7P-hy Google 

164 poems of Youth and Agei ' 

"I live by my mill, God bless her! she's kindred, child, and 

I would not change my station for any other in life; 
No lawyer, surgeon, or doctor e'er had a groat from me; 
I care for nobody, no not I, if nobody cares for me." 

When spring begins his merry career, oh, how his heart 

grows gay; 
No summer's drought alarms his fear, nor whiter's coid 

No foresight mars the miller's joy, who's wont to sing and 

"Let others toil from year to year, I live from day to day." 

Thus, like the miller, bold and free, lc( us rejoice and sing; 
The days of youth are made for glee, and timeison the wing; 
This song shall pass from me to ihcc, along the jovial ring; 

Let heart and voice and all agree to say, "Long live the king." 
haac Bicitrsliifl ? -i8i3?I 


Two little girls are better than one, 
Two little boys can double the fun, 
Two little birds can build a Cnc nest, 
Two little arms can love mother best. 
Two little ponies must go to a span; 
Two little pockets ha6 my little man; 
Two little eyes to open and close, 
Two little cars and one little nose. 
Two little elbows, dimpled and sweet, 
Two little shoes on two little feet, 
Two little lips and one little chin. 
Two little cheeks with a rose shut in; 
Two little shoulders, chubby and strong, 
Two little legs running all daylong. 
Two little prayers does my darling say, 
Twice does he kneel by my side each day. 
Two little folded hands, soft and brown, 
Two little eyeliils cast raeddy down, 


A Nursery Song 165 

And two little angels guard him in bed, 
"One at the foot, and one at the head." ■ 

Mary iSapes Dodge |i838-igo5) 


Oh, Peterkin Pout and Gregory Grout 

Are two little goblins black. 
Full oft from my house I've driven them out. 
But somehow they still come back. 

They clamber up to the baby's mouth. 

And pull the comers down; 
They perch aloft on the baby's brow, 

And twist it into a frown. 

And one says "Must!" and t'other says "Can't!" 
And one says "Shall!" and t'other says "Shan't!" 
Oh, Peterkin Pout and Gregory Grout, 
I pray you now from my house keep out! 

'But Samuel Smile and I.<emuel Laugh 

Are two Kttle fairies bright; 
They're always ready for fun and chaff, 

And aunshioe is their delight. 

And when they creep into Baby's eyes. 

Why, there the sunbeams are; 
.\od when they peep through her rosy lips. 

Her laughter rings near and far. 

And one says "Please!" and t'other says "Do!" 
And both together say "I love you!" 
So, Lemuel Laugh and Samuel Smile, 
Come in, my dears, and tarry awhile! 

Laura B. Richwds Itljo- 


Poems of Youth and Age 


I STUDIED my tables over and over, and backward and 

forward, loo; 
But I couldn't remember six times nine, and I didn't know 

what to do, 
Till sister told me to play with my doll, and not to bother 

my head. 
"If you call her 'Fifty-four' for a while, you 11 learn it by 

heart," she said. 

So I took my favorite, Mary Ann (though I thought 'twas 

a dreadful shame 
To give such a perfectly lovely child such a perfectly horrid 

And I called her my dear little "Fifty-four" a hundred 

times, till I knew 
The answer of six times nine as weil as the answer of two 

times two. 

Neit day Elizabeth Wiggles worth, who always a^ts so 

Said, "Six times nine is fifty-two," and I nearly laughed 

But I wi^ed I hadn't when teacher said, "Now, Dorothy, 

tell if you can," ' 

For I thought of my doll and — sokes dive! — I answered, 

"Mary Ann/" 

AniM Maria PratUjA - 


THE Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa; 

An' he's tie goodest man ever you saw! 

He comes to our house every day, 

An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay; 

An' he opens the shed — an' we all ist laugh 

When he drives out oui little old wobble-ly caU; 


The Raggedy Man 

An' nen — ef our hired girl says he caji — 

He milks the cow fer 'Lizabutb Ann. — 

Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man? 

Raggedy! Raggedyl Raggedy Man! 

An' nother'n', too, fer the Raggedy Man. — 

Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man? 

Raggedyf Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

An' the Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes 
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes: 
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' GiiSuos, an' Elves, 
An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swaJlers therselvesl 
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot. 
He showed me the tacje 'at the Wunlu is got, 
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can 
Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann! 
£r Ma, er Pa, er the Raggedy Manj- 
Ain 't he a fimny old Raggedy Man? 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

The Raggedy Man — one time when be 
Was makin' a little bow-n'-orry fer me. 
Says, "When you're big like your Pa is. 
Air you go' to keep a fine store like his — 
An' be a rich merehunt— an' wear fine clothes?— 
Er what air yon go' to be, goodness knows? " 
An' nen he lauded at 'Lizabuth Aon, 
An' I says " 'M go' to be a Raggedy Han! — 
I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!" 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! ■ 

/owe* WkiUomb Riiey [ias'-i9'6l 


Poems of Youth and Age 


Said the Raggedy Man, on a hot afternoon, 

What a lot o' mistakes 
Some little folks makes on The Man in the Moon! 
But people that's b 'en up to see him, like me, 
And calls on him frequent and intimutly. 
Might drop a few facts that would interest you 

If you wanted 'cm to — 
Some aclHol facts that might interest you! 

"O The Man in the Moon has a crick in his back; 

Whee! • 
Ain't you sorry for him? 
And a mole on his nose that ia purple and black; 
And his eyes are so weak that they water and run 
If he dares to drtam even he looks at the sun, — 
So he jes' dreams of stars, as the doctors advise — 

But isn't he wise — 
To Jes' dream of stars, as the doctors advise? 

"And The Man in the Moon has a boil on bis ear,- 
What a singular thing! 
I know! but these facts are authentic, my dear^ — 
There's a boil on hb ear; and a corn on hia chin,— 
He calls it a dimple — but dimpJes stick in — 
Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you kpowl 
Why, certainly so! — 
It might be a dimgde turned over, you know! 


Little Orphant Annie i6^ 

"And The Man in the Moon has a rfaeumatic knee, — 
What a pity that isl 
And bis toes have woriced round where hb heeb ought 

to be. 
So whenever he wants to go North he goes South, 
And comes back with porridge crumbs all round his 

And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan. 

What a marvelous man! 
What a very remarkably marvelous man! 

".\ad Hie Man in the Moon," sighed the Raggedy Man, 

Sullonesome, you know,— 
Up there by hisse'f sence creation began!— 
That when I call on him and then come away, 
He grabs me and holds me and begs me to stay, — 
TiH—WeUI if it wasn't fer Jimmy-cum-Jim, 
I'd go pardners with him — 
Jes' jump my job here and be pardncrs with html" 

Jama Whitcamb Riley |T852-[gi6] 


Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay, 

,^n' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs 

An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth. 

An' Dwke the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board- 


I TO Poems ■of Youth and Age 

An' all us other children, when the supper thJngB is done. 
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest lun 
A-lisl'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about. 
An' the Gobblc-uns 'at gits you 
Ef you 

Oac't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers — 

An' when he went to bed at night, away up stairs. 

His Mammy heered him holler, an' his Daddy bsered him 

An' when they tum't the kiwers down, he wasn't there at 

An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, 

an' press. 
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess; 
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout: 
An' the Gobble-uns 'II git you 


An' one time a little girl 'ud alius laugh an' grin, 

An' make tun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin; 

An' onc'l when they was "company," an' ote folks was 

She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care! 
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' tum't to run an' hide, 
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her 

An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed 

what she's about! 
An' the Gobble-uns '11 git you 
Ef you 


' The Night Bird 171 

An' little Oiphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, 
An ' the lamp-wick sputters, an ' the wind goes woo-ool 
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray. 
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,— 
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond and 

An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear. 
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'al dusters all about, 
Er the Gobble-uns '11 git you 
Out I 

"■■ [I8s»-i9"6l 

It's custard-pie, first thing you knowl 
An' non she'll say, 
"Clear out o' my wayl 
Tlicy's time fer work, an' time fer play! 

Take yer dough, an' run, child, nml 
Er I caint git no cookin* done!" 

'tends like she's mad, 
t to walk the chalk 
er wi^t they had! ' 
poTch an' talk 
an 'at mows our lawn; 
oi" an' nen leans on 
Hie old crook-scylhe, and bhnks bis eyes, 
An' sniffs all 'round an' says, "I swaffni 


172 Poems of Youth and Age 

Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, 
It 'pears like I smell custard -pies!" 
An' nen kc'll say, 
"Clear out o' my way! 
They's time ter work, an' time (» playl 
Take yer dough, an' run, child, run! 
Er she cain't git no cookin' done!" 
Wunst our hired girl, when she 
Got the supper, an' we all et. 
An' it wua night, an' Ma an' me 

An' Pa went wher' the "Social" met, — 
An' nen when we come home, an' see 
A light in the kitchen door, an' we 

Heerd a maccordeun, Pa says, "Lan'- 
O'-GracioBS, who can Aw beau be?" 
An' t marched in, an' 'Lizabulh Ann 
Wuz parchin' corn fer The Raggedy Man! 
Belter say, 

"Clear out o' the way! 
They's time fer work, an' tinte fer play! 
Take the hint, an' run. child, run! 
Er we cain't git no courtin' done!" 

Jamri Whilcamb Riley |iS5i-'i9i6i 

I ain't afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or 

^ An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice! 
■• I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet 1 hate to go to bed. 
For, when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my 

prayers arc said. 
Mother tells me " Happy Dreams! " an' takes away the light, 
, An' leavfs me lyin' all alone an' seein' things at oight 1 
• Sometimes they're in the coiner, sometimes they're by the 

' Sometimes they're all a-standin' in the middle uv the floor; 
Sometimes they are s-sittin' down, sometimes they're 

walkin' round 
So softly and so creepylike they never make a soundl 


Ttie Duel 173 

Sometimes they are as black as ink, an' other times they're 

white— V rf. 

'But the color ain't no difference when you see things at 

'Once, when 1 licked a feller 'at had just moved on our street, 
An' father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat, 
I wcdce up in the dark an' saw thing! standin' in a low, 
'A-lookin' at roe cross-eyed aa' p'intin' at me— sol 
'Oh, my! I wuz so sLeered that lime I never slep' a mite- 
It's almost alluz when I'm bad 1 see things at night! 

Locky thing I ain't a girl, or I'd be skeered to deatht 
■ Bcin' I'm a boy, I duck my head an' hold my breath^ 
An' 1 am, oh, so sorry I'm a naughty boy, an' then 
'I promise to be better an' I say my prayers again! 
Gran'ma tells me that's the only way to make it right 
■When a feller has been wicked an' sees things at night! - 

-An' so. when other naughty boys would coax me into sin, 
■I try to skwush the Tempter's voice 'at urges me within; 
An' when they's pie for supper, or cakes 'at's big an' nice, 
I want to— but I do not pass my plate f'r them things 

'No, ruther let Starvation wipe me slowly out o' sight 
. -Than I should keep a-livin' on an' seein' things at nightl 
' Eugene Field [iSso-iSgsl 

The gingham dog and the calico cat 
Side by side on the table sat; 
Twas half past twelve, and (what do you think!) 
Not one nor t'other had slept a wink! 
Tbc oU Dutch clodt and the Chinese plate 
Appeared to know as sure as fate 
Tbere was going to be a terrible spaL 
(/ wasn't there: I simply state 
What was told to me by the Chinese plaid) 

The gingham dog went, "Bow-wow-wow!" 
Aad the calico cat replied, "Mee-owl" 
The air was Uttered, an hour or so, 


174' Poems of Youth and Age 

With bits of gin^iBm abd calico, 
While the old Dutch dock in the chimney-place 
Up with its hands before its face, 
For it always dreaded a family raw I 
{Now mind; I'm only telling you 
What the old DuUh dock declares is tntt!) 

The Chinese plate looked very blue. 
And wailed, "CHi, dear! what AtaQ we dol" 
But the gingham dog and the calico cat 
Wallowed this way and tumbled that, 
Employing every tooth and daw 
In the awfullest way you ever saw — 
And, oh! how the gingham and calico flew! 
{Don't fancy I exaggerate — 
/ got my news from the Chinese plate!) 

Next morning, where the two had sat 
They found no trace of 
And some folks think u 
That burglars stole thai 
But the truth about I ip 

Is this; they ate each 
Now what do you really think of that! 
{The old Dutch dock U told me so, 
And thai is Mow I came to know.) 

Eugene Field [1SS0-1805I 


'TwAS on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean. 
Came children walking two and two, in red. and blue, and 

Gray-headed beadles walked twfore, with wands as white as 

Till into the high dcwae of Paul's they like Thames waters 

Ob what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London 

Seated in companies they sit, with radiance<ali their own. 


A Story for a Chfld 175 

The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, 
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent 

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of 

Or like hannonious ihunderings the seats of heaven among: 
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. 
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. 
WiJliam Blake [1757-iSiTl 


Little one, come to my knee! 

Hark, how the rain i& pouring 
Over the loof, in the pitch-black night, 

And the wind in the woods a-ioahng! 

The rain and the night together 
Came down, and the wind came after, 

Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, 
And snapping many a rafter. 

I crept along in the darkness, 
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded, — 

Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs. 
And a sheltering rock behind it. 

There, from the blowing and raining, 
Crouching, I sought to bide me: 

Something rustled, two green eyes shone. 
And a wolf lay down beside me. 


lyfi Poems of Youth and Age 

little <Mie, be not frightened; 

I and the wolf together, 
Side by side, through the long, long night. 

Hid from the awful weather. 

His wet fur pressed against me; 

Each of us warmed the other; 
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark, 

That beast and man was brolher. 

And when the falling forest 

No longer crashed in warning, 
Each of us went from our hiding-place 

Forth in the wild, wet morning. 

Darling, kiss me paymenti 

Hark, how the wind is roaring; 
Father's house is a better place 

When the stormy rain is pouring! 

Bayofd Taylor [[S25-137SI 


^^ •, 6 *i, ^ ■ . A,(. .. 

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the 

" 'Tis the prettiest Httle parlor that ever you did spy; 
The way into my parlor is tip a winding stair, 
And I have many curious things to show when you are 

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain; 
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down 


"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; 

Wilt you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the 
Fly. *-; 

"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are 
fine and thin; 

And if you liK^to rest a while, I'D snugly tuck you in!" 
■ "Oh no, no,"said the little Fly, "for I've often beard it said. 

They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!" 


The Spider aad the F]y. 177 

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear fncnd, wtuut ctn 

I do 
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? 
I fiave, within my psntry, good stotc of all that's mce; ' 
I'tnsureymi're very welcome — will you please to take a 

"Oh no, Do^said the little Ry, Tkind sir, that oaBnot.bei: 
I've beard what's in ypiir pantry, and I do not wish to see!" 

"^xtet creature," uaiid the Spider, ^ou're witty and 

you 're wise; 
Hoi It are 

If > your- 

^'l fou're 

And day." 

The s den. 

For ain; 

The ing,— 

" Ct silver 

■ *Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, 
.Ifearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by: 
'Wlh buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer 

drew, — 
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and puiple 

Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing! At 

Up jumped tbe cumuog Spider, and fiercely held hei fast. 

p:hy Google 

178 Poems of Youth and Age 

He <]ragged her up his vwtiing stair, into bis dismal den 
Within his little parlor-=Dut she ne'er came out again! 

And DOW, dear little children, who may this story read, 
To idle, silly, flattering words, 1 pray you ne'er give heed; 
Unto an evil counsellor close heart, and ear, and eye. 
And take a lessfm from this tale of the Spider and the fly. 
Mary Bmntt {i7a«~i88S] 


We were crowded in the cabin, 
Not a soul would dare to sleep,— 

It was midnight on the waters, 
And a storm was on the deep. 

Tis a fearful thing in winter 

To be shattered by the blast. 
And to hear the rattling trumpet 

Thunder, "Cut away the mast!" 

So we shuddered there in silence, — 

For the stoutest held his breath. 
While the hungrj- sea was roaring 

And the breakers talked with death. 

As thus we sat in darkness, 

Each one busy with his prayers, 
"We are lost!" the captain shouted. 

As he staggered down the stairs. 

But his little daughter whispered, 

As she look his icy hand, 
"Isn't (lod upon the ocean, 

Just the same as on the land?" 

Then we kissed the little maiden. 

And we spake in better cheer, 
And we anchored safe in harbor 

When the mom was shining clear. 

James Tkoma Fidds hSifr-iSSi] 


The Nightingale arid Glow-wOrm 179 


A moHTlNGALE, that a]l day loDg , , 

Had cheered the village with his song, 

Nor yet at eve his note suspended. 

Nor. yet when eventide was coded, 

Began to feel, as well he might. 

The keea demands of appetitej 

When, looking e^eily aiound. 

He spied far off, upon the giound, 

A something tuning in the dark. 

And knew the glow-wonn by his spark; 

So, stooping down from hawtbora top. 

He thought to put him in his crop. 

The worm, aware ot his intent, 

Harangued him thus, right eloquent: 

"Did you admire my lamp," qtoth he, 

"As much aa I your min^retsy, 

You would abhor to do me wrong. 

As much as I to spoil your song; 

For 'twas the self-same Power Div&ie 

Taught you to sing, and me to shine: 

That you with mu^c, I with light, 

Might beautify and cheer the night." 

The songster heard his short oration. 

And warbling out his approbation. 

Released him, as my story tells, 

And found a supper somewhere else. 

Hence jarring sectaries may leam 
Their real interest to discern ; 
That brother should not war with brother. 
And worry and devour each other; 
But sing and ^~ne by sweet consent. 
Till life's poor transient night is spent. 
Respecting in each other's case 
Tia gifts of nature and of grace. 

Those Christians best deserve the name 
Who studiously nuike peace their aim; 

p:hy Google 

i8o Poems of Youth and Age 

Peace both the duty and the prize 
Of him that creeps and him that flies. 


Ftom '■ Aikl» Cathcart " 

"Good morrow, my tordi" in the sky done, 
Sang the lark, as the sun ascmded his throne. 
"Shine on me, my lord; I only am come, 
Of all your servants, to welcome you home. 
I have flown right up, a whole hour, I swear, 
To catch the first shine of your golden hair." 

"Must I thank you, then," said the king, "Sir Lark, 

For Sying so high and hating the dark? 

You ask a full cup for half a thirst: 

Half was love of me, and half love to be first. 

There 's many a bird makes no such haste. 

But waits till I come: that's as much to ray taste." 

And King Sun hid his head in a turban of cloud, 

And Sir Lark stopped singing, quite vexed and cowed; 

But he flew up higher, and thought, "Anon 

The wrath of the king will be over and gone; 

And his crown, shining out of its cloudy fold. 

Will change my brown feathers to a glory of gold." 

So he flew— with the strength of a lark he flew; 
But, as he rose, the cloud rose too; 
And not one gleam of the golden hair 
Came through the depths of the misty air; 
Till, weary with flying, with sighing sore, 
The strong sun-seeker could do no more. 

His wings had had no chrism of gold: 

And his feathers felt withered and worn and old; 

He faltered, and sank, and dropped like a stone. 

And there on her nest, where he left her, alone 

Sat his little wife on her little e^s, 

Keeping them warm with win^ and legs. 


Courtship, Cock Robin and Jenny Wren Ht 

Did I say alone? Ah, no such 'thing! 
Full in her face was shining the king. 
"Welcome, Sir Lark! You look tired," saitl he; 
" L'p is not always the best way to me. 
While you have been singing so high and away, 
I've been shining to your little wife all day." 

He bad set his crown all about the nest. 

And out of the midst shone ber little brvwn breast; 

And so ^orious. was she in russet gold, 

Tliat for wonder ajid awe Sir Larit grew cold. 

He popped bis he&d undet her wing, and lay 

As still as a stotie, tSl King Sun was aw»y- 

George Macdonald [iSn-igos] 


It was a merry time 

When Jenny Wren was young. 
So neatly as she danced, 

And so sweetly as she sung, 
Robin Redbreast lost his heart: 

He was a gallant bird; 
He doScd his hat to Jenny, 
And thus to ber he said: — 

"My dearest Jenny Wren, 

If you will but be mine, 
You shall dine on cherry pie, 

And drink nice currant wine. 
111 dress you like a Goldiinch, 

Or like a Peacock gay; 
So if you'll have me, Jenny, 

Let us appoint the day." 

Jenny blushed behind her fan, 

And thus declared her mind; 
"Then let it be to-morrow, Bob, 

I take your offer kind — 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Cherry pie ik very goodl 

So is currant wine! 
But I will wear my brown gown, 

And never dress too fine." 

Robin rose up early 

At the break of day; 
He flew lo Jenny Wren 's house, 

To sing a roundelay. 
He met the Cock and Hen,. 

And bid the Cock declare, 
This was his wedding-day 

With Jenny Wren, the fair. 

The Cock then blew his horn. 

To let the neighbors know. 
This was Robin 's wedding-day. 

And they might see the show. 
And first came Parson Rook, 

With his spectacles and band, 
And one of Mother Hubbard's booka 

He held within hb hand. 

Then followed him the Lark, 

For he could sweetly sing. 
And he was to be clerk 

At Cock Robin's wedding. 
He sang of Robin 's love 

For little Jenny Wren; 
And when he came unto the end,. 

Then he began again. 

Then came the bride and bridegroom; 

Quite plainly v.-^s she dressed. 
And blushed so much, her cheeks were 

As red as Robin's breast. 
But Robici cheered her up; 

" My pretty Jen," said he, 
"We're going to be married 

And bsppy we shall be." 


Courtship, Cock Robin and Jenny Wren J185 

The Gddfinch came <ki next, 

To give awky the bride; 
The Linnet, being bride's roaidj 

Walked by Jenny's side; 
And, as she was a-walking, 

She said, "Upon my word, 
I think that your Cock Robin 

fe a very pretty biid." 

The Bulfinch walked by Robin, 

And thus to him did say, 
"Pray, mark, friend Robin Redbreast; 

That Goldfinch, dreseed so gay; 
What though her gay apparel 

Becomes her very well, 
Yet Jenny's modest dress and lodt 

Must bear away the bell." 

The Blackbird and the Thrush, 

And charming Nightingale, 
Whose sweet jug sweetly echoes 

Through evety grove and dale; 
The Sfiarrow and Tom Tit, 

And many more, were there: 
All came to see the wedding 

Of Jenny Wren, the fair. 

"O then," says Parson Rook, 

"Who gives this maid away?" 
"I do," says the Goldfinch, 

"And her fortune I will pay: 
Here 's a bag of grain of many sorts, 

And other things beside; 
Now happy be the brid^room, 

And happy be the bride!" 

"And will your have her, Rt^Mn, 

To be your wedded wife?" 
"Yes, I will," says Robin, 

"And love her ail my life," 


184 Poems of Youth and Age 

"And will you have him, Jamy, 

Vour husband now to be?" 
"Ves, 1 »iU," saya Jenny, 

"And love him heartily." 

Then on her linger fair 

Cock Robin put the ring; 
"You're married now," says Paisos Rook, 

While the Lark aloud did sing: 
"Happy be the bridegroom, 

And happy be the bride! 
And may not man, nor bird, nor bcaet, 

This liappy pair divide." 

The birds were aMicd to dine; 

Not Jenny 's friends alone, 
But every pretty songster 

That had Cock Robin known. 
They had a cherry pie, 

Beside some currant wine. 
And every guest brought sMncthing, 

That sumptuous they might dine. 

Now they all sat or stood 

To eat and to drink; 
And every one said what 

He happened to think: 
They e<tch tocA a bumper. 

And dtank to the pair: 
Cock Robin, ihc bridegroom. 

And Jenny Wren, the fair. 

The dinner-things removed, 

They all began to sing; 
And soon they made llie place 

Near a mile round to ring. 
The concert it was fine; 

And every bird tried 
Who best could sing for Robin 

And Jenny Wren, the bride. 


The Babes in the Wood 185 

Tbeo Id came the Cuckoo and made a great lo/at; 
He caught bold of Jenny and pulled her about. 
Cock Robin was ai^y, and so was the Sparrow, 
Who fetched in a hurry his bov and his airow. 

His aim then he t<xk, but be todc it not right; 
His skill was not good, or he shot in a -fright; 
For the Cuckoo he missed, but Cock Robin killed! — 
And all the birds mourned that his blood was so spilled, 


Now ponder well, yon parenls dear, 

These words, which 1 shall write; 
A doleful story you shall hear, 

In time brought forth to light. 
A gentleman of good account 

In Norfolk dwelt of late, 
\Vbo did in honor far sunnount 

Most men of his estate. 

Sore sick was he, and like to die, 

No help his life could save; 
His wife by him as sick did lie. 

And both possessed one grave. 
No love between these two was lost. 

Each was to other kind; 
In love they lived, in loved they died,' 

And left two babes bdiind: 

The one a fine and pretty boy, 

Not passing three years aid; 
The other a gir) more yOung than he. 

And framed in beauty's mold. 
The father left his little son, 

As plainly does appear, 
When be to perfect age should come, 

Three hundred pounds a year. 


Poems of Youth and Age 

And to his little da^igtitei Jane 

Five himdied pounds in gold. 
To be paid down on marri^e-day. 

Which might not be controlled: 
But if the children chance to die, 

Ere they to age should come, 
Their uncle should possess their wealth; 

For so the will did run. 

"Now, brother," said the dying man, 

"Look to my children dear; 
Be good unto my boy and girl. 

No Mends else have they here: 
To God and you 1 recommend 

My children dear this day; 
But little while be sure we have 

Within this world to stay- 

"You must be father and mother both, 

And uncle all in one; 
God knows what will become of tbem, 

When I am dead and gone." 
With that bespake their mother dear, 

"0 brother kind," quoth she, 
" You are the man must bring our babes 

To wealth or misery. 

"And if you keep them carefully 

Then God will you reward;. 
But if you otherwise should deal, 

God will your deeds regard." 
With lips as cold as any stone, 

They kissed their children small: 
"God bless you both, my children dear;" 

With that the tears did fall. 

These ^>eecbes then their brother ^i^e 

To this sick couple there, 
"The keefnng of youi little ontfi. 

Sweet sister, do not fear; 


The Bab«s in the Wood 187 

God never prosper me nor mine, 

Nor aught else that I have. 
If I do wrong your children dear, 

When you are laid in grave." 

The parents being dead and gooe. 

The children home be takes, 
And brings them straight into his house, 

Where much of them he makes; 
He had not kept these pretty babes 

A twelvemonth and a day, 
But, for their wealth, he did devise 

To make (hem both away. 

He bargained with two ruffians strong. 

Which were of furious mood, 
That they should take these children young, 

And slay them in a wood. 
He tM his wife an artful tale, 

He would the children srad 
To be brought up in fair London, 

With one that was his friend. 

Away tlien went these iH«tty babes, 

Rejoldng at that tide, 
Rejoicing with a meny mind. 

They should on cock-horse ride. 
They prate and prattle pleasantly, 

As they rode on the way, 
To those that should their butidiers be, 

And work their lives' decay: 

So that the pretty speech they had. 

Made Murdw's heart relent; 
And they that undertook the deed. 

Full sore did now repent. 
Yet one of thein more hand of heart, 

Did vow to do his chaige. 
Because the wretch that hired him. 

Had paid him very large. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 

The other won't agree thereto. 

So here they fall to strife; 
With one another they did fight. 

About the children's life: 
And he that was of mildest mood. 

Did slay the other there, 
Within an unfrequented wood; 

The babes did quake for fearl 

He took the children by the hand, 

Tears standing in their eye, 
And bade them straightway follow him, 

And look they did not cry: 
And two long miles he led them on, 

While they for food complain: 
"Stay here," quoth he, " I'll biiog yov bread. 

When I come back again." 

These pretty babes, with hand in hand, 

Went wandering up and down. 
But never more could see the man 

Approaching from the town; 
Their pretty lips with black-berries 

Were all besmeared and dyed. 
And, when they saw the darksome night, 

They sat them down and cried. 

Thus wandered these poor 

Till death did end their grief; 
In one another's arms they died. 

As wanting due relief: 
No burial this pretty pair 

Of any man receives, 
Till Robin-red'breast piously 

Did cover them with leaves. 

And now the heavy wrath of God 

Upon their uncle fell; 
Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house, 

His conscience felt an hcU: 

p:hy Google 

God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop 

His hams were filed, his goods consumed. 
His lands were barren made, 

His cattle died within the 6tM, 
And nothing with him stayed. 

And in a voyage to Portugal 

Two of his sons did die; 
And, to conclude, himself was brought 

To want and misery; 
He pawned and mortgaged ail his land 

Ere seven years came about, 
And now at length his wicked act 

Did by this means come out: 

The fellow, that did take in hand 

These children for to kill. 
Was for a robbery judged to die. 

Such was God's blessed will: 
Who did confess the very truth 

As here hath been disf^yed: 
Thdr uncle having died in jail. 

Where he f<w debt was laid. 

You that executors be made, 


and meek; 

■ . ly this thing, 

his right, 

Lest God with such like misery 

Your wicked minds requite. 


The summer and autumn hod been so wet, 
That in winter the com was growing yet: 
"Twas a piteous sight to see, all armmd, 
The grain lie rotting on tbe ground. 


190 Poems of Youth and Age 

Every day the starving poor 
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door; 
For he had a plentiful last -year's store, 
And all the neighborhood oouM tell 
His granaries were furnished well. 

At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day 

To quiet the poor without delay; 

He bade them to his great barn repair. 

And they should have food for the winter there. 

Rejoiced such tidings good to hear. 
The poor folk &}cked from far and ntar; 
The great barn was full as it could hold 
Of women and children, and young and old. 

Tlien, when be saw it could hold no bmi%, •/ . 
Bishop Hatto he niade fast the door; 
And, while for mercy on Christ they call^ 
He set fire to the baf n, and burnt tl^em all. 

"I' faith, 'tis an excdlent bonfiie!" quottbhe; 
"And the country is greatly obliged to me 
For ridding it, in these times forlorn, 
Of rats that only consume the com." 

So then to his palace returned he. 

And he sal down to supper merrily, 

And he slept that night like an inoocent man; 

But Bishop Hatto never slept again. 

In the morning, as he entered the hall, 

Where his picture hung against the wall, 

A sweat like death all over him came, 

' Fbr the rats had eaten it out <A the franae. 

As he looked, there came a man from his farm, — 
He had a cotmtenance white with alarm: 
"My Lord, I opened your granaries this mom, 
And the rats had eatco all your com." 


God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop 191 

Another came running presently, 
And he was pale as pole could be. 
"Fly! my Lord Bidwp, flyl" quoth he, 
"Ten thousand rats are coming this way, — 
The Lord forgive you for yesterdayl" 

"III go to my tower in the Rhine," replied be; 
"Tis the safest place in Germany, — 
The walls are high, and the shores are steep. 
And the tide is strong, and the water deep." 

Bishop Matto fearfully hastened away, 


And 1 e 

ADtt then. 

He la 


On hi ame. 

He listened and looked,— it was only the cat; ' 
But the Bishop he grew more fearful for that. 
For she sat screaming, mad with fear, 
At the aimy of rats that were drawing near. 

For they have swum over the river so deep. 
And they have climbed [he shores so steep. 
And now by thousands up they crawl 
To the holes and the windows in the wall. 

Down on his kn< 3 fell, 

And faster and I Is did he tell, 

As louder and Ic ; near. 

The saw of theii it he could hear. 

And in at the windows, and in at the door, 
And through the walls by thousands they pour; 
And down from the ceiling and up through the floor, 
From the right and the left, from behind and before. 
From within and without, from above and below, — 
And all at once to the Bish^ they go. 

p:hy Google 

192 Poems of Youth and Age 

They have whetted their teeth against the stones 
And now they pick the Bishop's bones; 
They gnawed the flesh from every limb, 
For they were sent to do judgment on him! 

Robert S«ttik«y [rrii-i 


A child's sioev 
I , 
Haueun Town's in Brunswick, 
By famous Hanover city; 

Apl I; 

But, » 

From vermin was a pity. 

They fought the dogs and killed the cats. 

And bit the babies in the cradles. 
And ate the dieeses out of the vats, 

And licked the soup from the cooks' own 
Split open the kegs of salted sprats. 
Made nesU inside men's Sunday hats, 
And even spoiled the women's chats 

By drowning their speaking 

With shrieking and squeaking 
In fifty different sharps and flaU. 

At last the people in a body 

To the Town Hall came flocking: 
" 'TIS dear." cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; 

And as for our Corporation,- 


The Pied Piper of Hamelin 

To think we buy gowns lined with ennine 
For dolts that can't or won't determine 
What's best to rid us of our verminl 
You hope, because you're old and obese. 
To find in the hmy civic robe easei* 
Rouse up, sirs! Give your biaiiiE a lackijig, 
To find the remedy we're lackii^. 
Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" . 
At this the Mayor and Corporation 
Quaked with a mighty consternation. 

An hour they sat in council, — 

At length the M«yor broke silence: 
" For a guilder I'd my inline gown sell; 

I wish I were a mile hence! 
ll's easy to bid one rack one's brain, — 
I'm sure my poor head aches again, 
I've scratched it so, and all in vain. 
Ob for a trap, a tiap, a trapl " 
Just as he said this, what should hap 
At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? . 
"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's Ihati"' 
(With the Corporation as he aat, 
Looking httle though wondrous fat; 
Nor brighter was his eye, nor mobter 
Tlun a too-loQgH^ned oyster, 
Save when at noon his pauhch grew mutinous 
For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) 
"Only a scraping of fibees oh the mat P 
Anything like the sound of a cat 
Makes my heart go pit-a-patl" 

"CwQe in!" the Mayor cried, lookii^ bigger: 
And in did come the strangest figurel 
His queer long coat from heel to head 
Was half of yellow and half of red, 
And be himself was tall and thin, 
With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, 


194 Poems of Youth and Age ■. 

Ad<1 li^t loose hair, yet swarthy skin, 

No tuft oa cheek nor beard on dun. 

But lips where smiles went out and in; 

There was no guessing his kith and kin: 

And nobody could enough admire 

The tall man and his quaint attire. 

Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire. 

Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, 

Had walked this way from his painted tombstone I" 

He advanced to the council-table: 

And, "Please your honors," said he, " I'm able. 

By means of a secret charm, to draw 

All creatures living beneath the sun, 

That creep or swim or fly or run, 

After me so as you never saw! 

And I chiefly use my charm 

On creatures that do people harm, 

The mole and toad and newt nhd vipw; 

And people call me the Pied Piper." 

(And here they noticed round his neck 

A scarf of red and yellow stripe, 

To match with his coat of the self-same check. 

And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; 

And his fingers, they noticed, wwe ever straying 

As if impatient to be playing 

Upon this pipe, as low it dangled 

Over hb vesture so old-fangled.) 

"Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, 

In Tartary I freed the Cham, 

Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; 

I eased in Asia the Nizam 

Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats; 

And as for what your brain bewilders, — 

If I can rid your town of rats. 

Will you give me a thousand guilders?" 

"Onei" fifty thousand!" was the exclamation 

Of the astonidwd Mayor and Corporation. 


The Pied Piper of Hamelin 

Into the street the Piper stepped. 

Smiling fiist a httk amile. 
As if he knew what magic slept 

In his quiet pipe the while; 
Then, like a musical adept, 
To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, 
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, 
Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; 
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, 
You heard as if an army muttered; 

F<^wed the Piper for their lives. 
From street to street he pipicd advancing. 
And step for step they followed dandng, 
Until they came to the rifcr Weser, 
Whei ! 

— Sa' 'xsa.T, 

(As I irf) I 

ToR y, 

Whic tes of the S>ipe, 

Ihea K, 

And putting apples, wondrous ripe, 

Into a cider-press's gripe, — 

And a moving away of pickle- tub-boards, 

And a leaving ajar of conserve- cupboards, 

And a drawing the corks of train -oil-fla^, 

And a breaking the ho(^ of butter-casks; 


196 Poems of Youth snd Age 

And it seemed as if a voice 

(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery 

Is breathed) called out, 'Oh rats, rejoice! 

The world is grown to one vast dryEalteryl 

So munch on, crunch on, take your nundieon. 

Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' 

And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon. 

Already staved, like a great sun shone 

Glorious scarce an inch before me. 

Just as methought it said. 'Come, bore me!' — 

I found the Weser rolling o'er me." 

You should have heard the Hamelin people 
Ringing the bells till ihcy rocked tlit steeple; 
"Go," cried the JIayor, "and get long poles! 
Poke out the nests and block up the holes! 
Consult with carpenters and builders, 
And leave in our town not even a 
Of the rats!" — when suddenly, up the face 
Of the Piper perked in the market-place, 
With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilder 

A thousand guildersi the Mayor looked blue; 

So did the Corporation too. 

For council-dinners made mrc havoc 

With Claret, Moselte, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; 

And half the money would replenish 

Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. 

To pay this sum to a wandering fellow 

With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! 

"Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a kjDOwing wink, 

"Our business was done at the river'3 brink) 

We saw with our eyes the vermin sink. 

And what's dead can't come to life, I think. 

So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink 

From the duty of giving you Bomething to drink, 

And a matter of money to put in your poke; 


The Pied Piper of Hamelin 197 

But as for the guilders, what we spoke 
Of ihemf as you v«ry well know, was in jc4e. 
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty i 
A thousand guildeis! Come, taJte fiftyl" 

The Piper's face fell, and be cried, 

"No trifling! I can't wait! beside, 

I 've promised to visit by dinner time 

Bagdat, and accept (he prime 

Of the Head Cook 's pottage, all he 's ridi in. 

For having !efl, in the Caliph's kitchen. 

Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: 

With him I proved no bargain-driver; 

With you, don 't think I '11 bate a stiver! 

And folks who put me in a passion 

May find me pipe after another fashion." 

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook 

B^ng worse treated than a Cook? 

Insulted by a lazy ribald 

With idle pipe and vesture piebald? 

Vou threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, 

Blow your pipe there till you burst!" 

Once more he stepped into the street ; 

And to hb lips again 
Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; 

And ere he blew three notes (such sweet 
Soft notes as yet musician '9 cunning ■ • 

Never gave the enraptured air) 
There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling 
Of merry crowds justhng at pitching and htutliugl 
SmaD feet were pattering, wooden shoes daltering. 
Little hands claf^ing, and Utile tongues chattering; 
And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, 
Out came the children running: 


98 Poemg of Youth and Ag« 

All the little boys and girb, 

With rosy cheeks and flaxen cutis, 

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls. 

Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after 

The wonderful music with shouting and latighter. 


The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood 

As if they were changed" into blocks of wood. 

Unable to move a step, or cry 

To the children merrily skipping by, — 

And could only follow with the eye 

That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. 

But how the Mayor was od the rack. 

And the wretched Council '3 bosoms beat, 

As the Piper turned from the High Street 

To where the Weser rolled its waters 

Right in the way of their sons and daughters! 

However, he turned from south to west. 

And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed. 

And after him the children pressed; 

Great was the joy in every breast. 

"He never can cross that mighty top! 

He's forced to let the piping drop, 

And we shall see our children stop!" 

When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side, 

A wondrous portal opened wide. 

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; 

And the Piper advanced and the children followed; 

And when all were in, to the very last, 

The door in the mountain-side shut fast. 

Did I say, all? No! One was lame, 

And could not dance the whole of the way; 

And in after years, if you would blame 

His sadness, he was used to Eay,-~^ 

"It's dull in our town since my playmates leftl 

I can 't forget that I 'm bereft 

Of all the pleasant sights they see. 

Which the Piper also !»omised me; 

p:hy Google 

The Pied Pipe/ of Hwnelin .' !• 

For he led tu, he said, {o a JOybus l&ml, 

Joining the town and juEt at hand, 

Where watera guehcd, and fimt-tfees grew, 

And Sowers put forth a fairer hue, , 

Aod everything was &trat^ and new; 

The spairows w»e brighter thaa peacocks hoc, 

And their dogs outran our f aUow deer. 

And honey-beea bad lost their stings, 

And hoises were bora with eagles' wings; 

And just as I became assured 

My lame foot would be speedily cured. 

The music stopped and I stood still, 

And found myself outside the hiJl, 

Left alooe against nay will, 

To go now limping as before, i 

And never hear of that country morel" 

Alas, alas for Hatnelin! 

There came into many a burgher's pate 

A text wtaidi says that heaven's gate 

Opes to the rich at as easy rate 
As the needle's eye lakes a camel in! 
The Mayor sent East, West, North and South, 
To offer the Piper, by word of mouth, 

Wherever it was men 'a lot to find him, 
Sflver and gold to his heart's content, 
If he'd only return the way he went, 

And bring the children behind him. 
But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor. 
And piper and dancers were gone forever, 
They made a decree that lawyers never 

Should think their records dated duly 
If, after the day of the month and year, 
These words did not as well ^pear, 
"And BO long after what happened here 

On the Twenty-second of July, 
Ihirteen hundred and seventy-Mx:" 
And the better in memory to fix 


200 Poems of Youth and Ag« 

llie place of the children's last retreat, 
They called it, th& Pied Piper's Street— 
Where any one playing on pipe or tabor 
Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 
Nor suffered they hostlery or tavern 

To shock with mirth a street so sokaui; 
But opposite the i^e of the cavern 

They wrote the story on a column. 
And on the great church-window painted 
The same, to make the world acquainted 
How their children were stolen away, 
And there it stands to this very day. 
And I must not omit to say 
That in Transylvania there 's a tribe 
Of alien people who ascribe 
The outlandish ways and dress 
On which their neighbors lay such stress, 
To their fathers and mothers having risen 
Out of some subterraneous prison 
Into which they were trepanned 
Long time ago in a mighty band 
Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, 
But how or why, they don 't understand. 

So, Willy, let me and you be wipers 
Of scores out with all men — especially pipers! 
And, whether (hey pipe us free fr6m rats or fr6m mice. 
If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise! 
Robert Browning Ii8i>-i889| 

p:hy Google 




He came all so slfll 
Where His mother was, 

As dew in April 
That falleth on the grass. 

He came all so still 
Where His mother lay. 

As dew in April 
That falleth on the spray. 

He came all so stUI 
To His mother's bower, 

As dew in April 
That falleth on the flower. 

Mother and maiden 
Was never none but shel 

Wdl might such a lady 
God's mother be. 


God rest you, merry gentlemen, 

Let nothing you dismay, 
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, 

Was boni tipoD this day, 

To save us all from Satan's power ' 

When -we were gwie astray. 

tidings of comfort and joyt 

For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, 

Was bom on Christmas Day. 


ao2 Poems of Youth and Age 

In Bethlehem, in Jewry, 
This blessed babe was born, 

And laid within a manger. 
Upon this bless&j morn; 

"Hie which His mother, Alary, 
Nothing did take in scorn. 

From God our Heavenly Father, 

A blessdd aogel came; 
And unto certain shepherds 

Brought tidings of the same; 
How that in Bethlehem was bom 

TTie Son of God by name. 

"Fear not," then said the angel, 
"Let nothing you affright, 

This day is born a Saviour 
Of virtue, power, and might. 

So frequently to vanquish all 
The friends of Saian quite." 

The shepherds at these tidings 
Rejoiced much in mind, 

And left their flocks a-fecding 
In tempest, storm, and wind. 

And went to Bethlehem straightway. 
This blessed babe to find. 

But when to Bethlehem they came, 

Whereat this infant lay, 
Tbc^ found Him in a manger, 

Where osen feed on hay, 

His mother Mary kneeling, 

Unto ihe Lord did pray. 

Now to the Lord nng praises, 
All ymi within this place, 

And with true love sod brotheiiiood 
E4ch other now embrace; 

This boly tide of Christmas 
All otherB doth deface. 


" O Little Town of Bethlehem " 203 

O tidings of comfort and joy! ' 
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, 
Was bom in Christmas Day. 

O LITTLE town of Bethlehem, 

How silently, how silently, 

The wondrous gift is given! 
So God imparts to human hearts 

The blessings of His heaven. 
No ear may hear His coming, 

But in this world of sin. 
Where meek souls will receive Him still, ■ 

The dear Christ enters in, 

holy Child of Bethlehem! 

Descend to us, we pray; ' 

Cast out our sin, and enter in, 

Be bom in us toniay. 


204. Poerris of Youth and Age ■ ■ 

■ We hear the Christmas angeb 
The great glad tidii^ tell; 
Oh come to us, abide with ua, 
Our Lord Emmanuel! 

Phillipi Brooks [iSjs-ii 


Old Stylt: i8j7 

It was the cahn and silent night! 

Seven himdred years and fifty-three 
Had Rome been growing- up to might, 

And now was Queen of land and sca. 
No sound was heard of clashing wars; 

Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; 
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars, 

Held undisturbed their ancient rdgn, 

In the solemn midnight 

Centuries ago, 

'Twas in the calm and silent night! 

The senator of haughty Rome 
Impatient urged his chariot's flight. 

From lordly revel rolling home. 
Triumphal arches gleaming swell 

His breast with thoughts of boundless sway; 
What recked the Roman what befell 

A paltry province far away. 

In the solemn midnight 
Centuries ago! 

Within that province far away 

Went plodding home a weary boor: 
A streak of light before him lay, 

Falt'n through a half-shut stable door 
Across his path. He passed — for naught 

Told what was going on within; 
How keen the stars! his only thought; 

The air how calm and cold and thin, 

■In the solemn midnight 

Centuries ago! 

p:hy Google 

' Shepherds Watched Their Flocks " 205 

Ostraoge indificfcocel — ^lowandki^ 

Drowsed over comnon joys and cai^; 
The eutb was still — but knew not why; 

The world was listenaig~-unawaieri. 
How calm a moment may precede 

One that shall thiiU the vrodd for ever! ' 
To that still moment mme would hedd, 

Man's doom was linked, no mom to sever, 
In Che solemn midnight 
Centuries ago. 

It JT the calm and solemn ni^tl 

A tbonsand beUs ling out, and ttuow 
Their joyous peak abroad, and smite 

The darkness, charmed and holy now. 
The night that erst no name had worn, 

To it a. happy name is given; 
For in that stable lay new-bom 
The peaceful Prince of Earth and Hqaven, 
In the solemn midnight 
Centuries ago. 

Affrsd DenMlt liSii-iSiy] 


While shepherds watched their flocks by night, 

All seated on the ground, 
The angel of the Lord came down. 

And ^ory shone around. 

" Fear not," said he, for mi^ty dread 

Had seized their troubled mind; 
" Glad tidings of great joy I bring 

To you and all mankind. 

"To you, in David's town, this day 

Is bom, of David's line. 
The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, 

And this ^lall be the sign: 


ao6 Poems of Youth and Age 

"Hie heavenly babe you there ihaU find 

To human view displayed, 
All meanly wraH>ed in swaddling baoda. 

And in a man^r laid." 

Tbns sp>Bie the senph; and forthwith 

Appealed a shining throng 
Of angels, praising God, who thus 

Addressed their joyful sang: 

"All ^ory be to God on high, 

And to the earth be peace; 
Good will henceforth from Heaveo to men 

Begin and never cease." 

NaJum Tale [1651-1 


It came upon the midnight daa. 

That glorious song <rf old. 
From angels bending near the earth 

To touch their harps of gold: 
"Peace on the earth, good will to men 

From heaven's all-gradous King" — 
The world in solemn stillness lay 

To hear the angels sing. 

Still through the cloven skies they come 

With peaceful wings unfurled, 
And still their heavenly music floats 

O'er all the weary world; 
Above its sad and lowly plains 

They bend on hovering wing. 
And ever o'er its Babel-sounds 

The blessM angels sing. 

But with the woes oE sin and strife 
The world has suffered long; 

fieneath the angel-strain have rolled 
Two thousand years of wrong; 

p:-hy Google 

The Angela .207 

ADdflmn.^tTraTvitbmftB, heats tu>t 1 

The 'love-song wtdcb thaybring; — 
Oh, hoati the noise, ye men of strife. 

And hear the angels sing! 

And ye, beneath life's cmslring load. 

Whose fonns are bending low, 
Who toil along the climbing way . 

With painful steps and slow, 
LcN^ now ! for glad and golden hours 

Come swiftly on the wing; — 
Oh, rest beside the wcaiy road 

And hear the angels sing! 

For lo ! the days are hastening oQ 

By prophet bards foretold. 
When with the ever circling years 

G>mes round the age of gold; 
When Peace Ehall over all the earth 

Il3 ancient splendors fling, 
Axd the whole world give back the song 

Which now the angels sing. 

Edmund HamilUm Setirs USityiSifH 


Fnmi "Flowen of Sion" 

KuN, shepherds, run where Bethlehem blest appears. 
We bring the best of news; be not dismayed: 
A Saviour there is bom more (Ad than years. 
Amidst heaven's roUing heights this eaith who stayed. 
, In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid, 
A weakling did him bear, who all upbeats; 
There is he poorly swaddled, in manger laid, 
To whom too narrow swaddlings are out spheres: 
Run, shepherds, run, and solemnize his birth. 
This is that night — no, day, grown great with bliss, 
Id which the power of Satan broken is: 
In heaven be gtory, peace unto the earthl 


i Poems of Youdi and Age 

Thus slngtng, throu^ tke air the angels swarm. 
And cope of stars ro-echoM the soihe. 

WHUam I>rwMMM^ (1585-1^9] 


As I in hoary winter's night 

Stood shivering in the snow, 
Surprised I was with sudden heat 

Which made my heart to glow; 
And lifting up a fearful eye 

To view what fire was near, 
A pretty babe all burning .bright 

Did in the air appear; 
Who, scorchM with excessive heat. 

Such floods of tears did shed, 
As though His floods should quench His llames. 

Which with His tears were bred: 
"Alas!" quoth He, "but newly born 

In fiery heats I fry, 
Yet none approach to warm their hearts 

Or fed my fire but I! 

"My faultless breast the furnace is; 

The fuel, wounding thorns; 
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke; 

The ashes, shames and scorns; 
The fuel Justice layeth on, 

And Mercy blows (he coals, 
The metal in this furnace wrought 

Are men's defilM souls: 
For which, as now on fire I am 

To work them to their good, 
So will I melt into a bath, 

To wash them fti my blood." 
With this He vanished out ol sight 

And swiftly shrunk away, 
And straight I callM unto mind 

That it was Christmas Day. 

Robert SotOJmdl ii$6ii-ists\ 


Christmas Carol 


The Ox he openeth wide the Doore, 

And from the Snowe he calls her inne, 
And he hath seen her Smile therefor, 
Our Ladye without Sinne. 
Now soone from Sleep 
A Starre shall leap. 
And soone arrive both King aod Hinde: 

Amen, Amen; 
But O, the Place w'd I but findel 

The Ox hath hushed his voyce and bent 

Trewe eyes of Pilty ore the Mow, 
And on his lovelie Neck, forspent. 
The Blessed layes her Browe. 
Around her feet 
Full Warine and Sweete 
His bowcric Breath doth meeklie dwdl: 

But sore am I with Vaine Travai 

The Oi islMSt in Judah staU 

And Host of more than onelie one. 

For dose she gatherctb withal 

Our Lordc her httel Sonne. 

Glad Hinde and King 

Their Gyfte may bring, 

But wo'd to-night my Teare* were there^ 

Amen, Amen: 
Between her Bosom and His hayre! 

Louise Imogen Guiney fi86i- 


As Joseph was a-waukin', 

He heard an angel sing, 
"This night shall be the birthnight 

Of Christ our heavenly King. 


. 2IO Poems 0/ Youth, and Age 

"His birth-bed shall be neither 

In housed nor in hall, 
Nor in the place of paradise, 

Biit in the OJten's staU. 

"He neither shall be rockM ; 

In silver nor in gold. 
But in the wooden manger 

That Ueth in the mould. 

"He nrather shall be waAen 
With white wine nor with red. 

But with the fair spring water 
That on you shall be shed. 

"He neither shall be doth&l 

In purple nor in pall, 
But in the fair, white linen 

That usen babies all." 

As Joseph was a-waukin', 

Thus did the angel sing. 
And Mary's son at midnight 

Was bom to be our King. 

Then be you glad, goofl people. 

At this time of the year; 
And light you up your candles, 

For His star it shineth dcarl 




BuCETEST and best of the Sons of the morning! 

Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aidi 

Star of the East, the horizon adorning. 

Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid! 

Cold on His cradle the dewdrops *re sjiining, 
Low lies His head with the beasU of the stall; 

Angela adore Him in slumber reclining. 
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of alll 


Christinas Bells '. 

Say, shall we yield Uiin, ia costly d«\%tM)Q, 

Odois of Edtm and oSenngadiviaei' 
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, 
Myirh from the foresC, or gold liwa the mine? 

Vainly we offer each ample oblation; 

Vainly with gifts would His favor secure; 
Richer by far b the heart's adoiation; 

Dearer to God are the prayets of the poor. 

Bri^test and best of the Sons of the mormBg! 

Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid! 
Star of the East, the horizon adorning, 

Guide where oiir Infant Redeemer is laid! 

Reginald Heba [1733-181 


I HEABD the bells on Christmas Day 
Their old, familiar carols play, 

And wild and sweet 

The words repeat 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

id come, 

Till, ringing, singing on its way, 

The worid revolved from night to day, 

A voice, a chime, 

A chant sublime 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

Then from each bladi, accursed mouth 
The cannon thundered in the Smith, 

And with the sound 

The carob drowned 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 


51 a Poems of Youth and Age 

It was as if an earthquake rent 
The heartli-gtanes of a continent. 

And made forlorn 

The households bom 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

And in despair I bowed ray head; 
"There is no peace on earth," I said, 

" For hate is strong, 

And mocks the song 
Of peace on earth, good-will to menl" 

Then pealed the bcUs more loud and deep; . 
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep! , 

The Wrong shall fail, 

The Right prevail, 
With peace on earth, good-will to men!" 

Henry Wadsworth LengfdknB I1S07-1883I 


The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, 

His hair was like a light. 
(O weary, weary were the world. 

But here is all aright.) 

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast, 

His hair was like a star. 
(0 stern and cunning are the kings, 

But here the true hearts are.) 

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart. 

His hair was like a fire. 
(O weary, weary is the worid, 

But here the world's desire.) 

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee. 

His hair was like a crown, 
And all the flowers looked up at Him, 

And all the stars looked down. 

CfOcrf Keith Cheslerbm ti8»4- 


The House of Christmas' 


There fared a. mother driven foith 

Out of an inn to roam; 

In the place where she was homeless 

All men aie at home. 

The crazy stable close at hand. 

With shaking timber and shifting sand, 

Grew a sUonger thing to abide and stand. 

Than the square stones of Rome. 

For men are homeack In their hones, 

And Btraagera under the sun, 

And they lay theic heads in a foreign land 

Whenever the day is done. 

Here we have battle and blazing eyes, 

And chance and honor and high sutprise;, 

But our bomcB are undes miraculoua skies 

Where the yule tale was b^un. 

A Child in a foul sbUile, 

Where the bents feed and foam, 

Only where He was bctneteas 

Are you and I at home; 

We have hands that fashion and beads that know. 

But our- heartfi we k»t— how long agol 

In a place no chart nor ship can show 

Under the sky's dome. 

TTiis world is wild as an old wves' tale. 

And strange the plain things are, 

The earth is enough and the air is enou^ 

For our wonder and OUr war; 

But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings 

And our peace is put in impossible things 

Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings 

Round an incredible star. 

To an open house in the evening 
Home shall men come, 


a!4 Poems of Youth and Age 

To an older place than Eden 

And a. taller town than Rome. 

To the end of the way of the wandering star, 

To the things that cannot be and that are, 

To the place where God was homeless 

And all men are at home. 

Gilierl Keith Cheilerton [1S74- 


These is heard a hymn when the panes are dim, 

And never before or again. 
When the nights are strong with a daiiiKS Jong, 

And the dark is alive 'vrith ra&i. 

Never we know but in sleet and anow 
The place where the great fires are, 

That the midst of earth is a raging mirth, 
And the heart of the earth a star. 

And at mght we win to the andeot hm, 
Where the Child in the frost b furkd. 

We follow the feet where all muIs meet. 
At the inn at the end of the world. 

The gods Ue dead ^ere the laaves lie red. 

For the flame of the sun is flown; 
The gods lie cold where the lesvee are gold, 

And a Child comes forth alone. 

Gilbert Kaih Cke^Utlim [tSr4- 


Joseph, mild and noble, bent above the straw: 
A pale girl, a frail girl, suffering he saw; 
"0 my Love, my Mary, my bride, I pity thee!" 
"Nay, Dear," said Mary, "all is well with me!" 

" Baby, my baby, my babe," she sang. 

Suddenly the golden night all with musdc tangd 


Gates and Doors at 

Angels leading shepfaerds, shepbnds lending sheep: 
The silence of worship broke the mother's sleep. 
AH the meek and lowly of ail the world were there; 
Smiling, she showed them that her Child was fair, 

"Baby, my haby" kisang Him she said. 

Suddenly a flaming star through the heavens sped. 

Three dd men and weary knelt them side by side, 
The world's wealth forBwearing, majesty and pride; 
Worldly might and wisdom beroie the Babe bent low: 
Weeping, maid Mary said, "I love Him so!" 

"Baby, my baby," and the Baby slept. 

Suddenly on Calvary all the olives wept. 

Shaeiiuu OShed [1886- 


Skins out to guide the- Iropdfr's feet 
To you across Ike snow. 

Then was a courteous hostler 
(He is in Htavo) to-night) 

fie held Our Lady's bridle 
And helped her todigfat. , 


ai6 Poems of Youth and Age 

He apnad dean straw bcfote bar .' 
Whereon she might lie down. 

And Jesus Christ has given him 
An everlasting crown. 

Unlock the door tkk attting 

And kl your gale swing wide, 
Lei all who ask for sktiler 

Come speedily inside. 
WktU ^ your yard be narraaS 

What ^ yoiir house be smaUt- 
There is a Guest is coming 

WiU glorify it aU. 

There was a joyous hostler 

Who knelt on Christmas mom 
Beside the radiEint manger ' 

Wherein his Lord was borp. 
His heart was full of laughter, 

His soul was full of bliss 
When Jesus, on Hts Mother's lap, 

Gave him His hand to kiss. 

Unbar your heart this evening 

And keep no slravger out. 
Take from your soul's great porlat 

The barrier of doubt. 
To humble folk and weary 

Give hearty welcoming. 
Your breast shall he to-morrow 

The cradle of a King. 

Joyce Kilmer |iS86- 

tHe three kings 

Three Kings came riding from far away, 

Melchior and Caspar and Bakasar; 
Three Wise Men out of the East were they, 
And they travelled by night and they slept by day. 

For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star. 

p:hy Google 

The Three Kings 2 

The star was so beauUfu], large and clSar, 

That all the other stars of the sky 
Became a white mist in the atmosphere; 
And by this they knew that the cooitDg was near 

Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy. 

Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows, 

Three caskets of gold with golden keys; i 

Their robes were of crimson silk, with rows 
Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows, 
Their turbans like blossoming almond- trees. 

And so the Three Kings rode into the West, 

Through the dusk of night, over hill and <lell, 
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast, 
And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest, 
With the people they met at some wayside well.' 

"Of the child that is born," said fialtasar, 

" Good people, I pray you, tell us the news. 
For we in the East have seen hb star. 
And have ridden fast, and have ridden far, 
To find and worship the King of the Jews." 

And the people answered, "You ask in vain; 

We know of no king but Herod the Greatl" . 
Tbey thought the Wise Men were men ittsaoe. 
As they spurred their horses across the platQ 

Like riders in haste, and who cannot wait. 

And when they came to Jerusalem, 
Herod the Great, who had hcanl this thing. 

Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them; 

And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem. 
And bring me tidings of this new king." 

So they rode away, and the star stood si ill. 

Hie only one in the gra,y of morn ; 
Yes, it stopped,~it stood still of its own free will, 
Right over Bethlehem on the hill. 

The city of David, where Christ wasboni. 


4i8 Poems of Youth and Age 

And the Three Kings rode through the gat£ and the guard, 
Through the silent street, till theii horses tiuned 

And neighed as they entered the great inu-yafd; 

But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred, 
And only a tight in the st^le burned. 

And cradled there in the scented hay, 
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine, 

The little child in the manger lay, 

The Child that would be King one day 
Of a kingdom not human, but divine. 


They laid their offerings at his feet: 

The gold was their tribute to a King; 
The frankincense, with its odor sweet, 
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete; 

The myrrh for the body's burying. 

And the mother wondered and bowed her head, 

And sat as still as a statue of stone; 
Her heart was troubled yet comforted, 
Rememhcnng what the Angel had said 

Of an endless reign and of David's throne. 

Then the Kings rode out of the dty gate, 

With a clatter of hoofs in proud array; 
But they went not back to Herod the Great, 
For they knew his malice and feared his hate, 

And returned to their homes by another way. 

Hewy WadswoTlk Longfdlow [[807-1882! 

There hath come bo host to see Thee,' 
Baby dear, 

Bearded men with eyes of flame 
And Ups ol fear, 

p:hy Google 

A Child's Song of Christmas 119 

For the heavens, they say, have brohtD 

Into blinding gulfs of giory. 

And the Lord, tbcy say, hath spoken 

In a little irondious stoiy, 

Baby dear. 

There have come three kings to greet Thee, 

Baby dear, 

Crowned with gold, iind clad In putple, , 

They draw near. 

They have brought rare silks to bind Thee, 

At Thy feet, behold, they spread them, 

From their thrones they sprang to find Thee, 

And a blazing star hath led them, 

Baby dear. 

I have neither jade nor ja^>er. 

Baby dear. 

Thou art all my hope and glory, 

And my fear. 

Yet for all the gems that strew Thee, 

And the costly gowns that fold Thee, 

Yea, though all the world should woo Thee, 

Thou art mine — and fast I hold Thee, 

Baby dear. 

Henry Haumrth Bashford [iSSo- 

My counterpane b soft as silk. 
My blankets wbite as creamy milk. 

"ITie hay was soft to Him, I know, 

Out little Lord of long ago. 
Above the roofs the pigeons fly 
In silver wheels across the sky. 

The stable-doves ihey cooed to them, 

Mary and Christ in Bethlehem. 
Bright shinea the sun across the drifts, 
And blight upon my Christinas gifts. 

They brought Hnn incrase, myrrh, and gold. 

Our little Lord who lived of old. 


210 Poems of Youth and Age 

Oh, soft and clear our mother aingi 

Of Christinas joys and Chnstmas ihiogs, 

God's holy angels sang to them, 

Mary and Christ in Bethlehem. 

Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear, 

And earth seems sweet and heaven seems near, 

Oh, heaven was in His sight, I know, 

That little Child of long ago. 

Marjorif £. C. PkkthaU [1883- 


Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, 

Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! 

Mighty glad I ain't a girl — ruther be a boy. 

Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by 

Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' In the lake — 
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bdly-achS! 
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no 

Hies on me, 
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! 

Got a yetler dog named Sport, sick him on the cat; 
First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at! 
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide, 
'Long comes the groceiy cart, an' we all hook aride! 
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross. 
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss. 
An' thenllaff an' holler, "Oh, ye never teched me/" 
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! 

Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man, 

I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan, 

As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon's Isle, 

Where every psospeck pteasea, an' only man is vile! 

But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild W«st show. 

Nor read the Life of Daniel Bo^ne, or else I guess she'd 


A Visit from St. Nicholas 221 

rbat Buff'lo Bill and cow-boys is good enough for me! 
Excrp' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm good as I kin be! 

And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an' still, 
His eyes they keep a-sayin': "What's the matter, little 

Hie old cat sneaks down ofF her perch an' wonders what's 

Of tber that used to make things hum! 

But la so earnestly to biz, 

That IT 'How improved our Willie is!" 

But fat ^hisseU, suspicions me 

Alien j n as good as I kin bel 

Fm Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes an' 

Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty 

So wash yer fac« an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's an' q's. 
An' don't bust out yer pantaloons, an' dont wear out yer 

Say "Yessum" to the ladies, an' "Vessur" td themen^ 
An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie 

Bat. thininng of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree, 
Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin bet 

Eutene Field [itstr-iS^s] 




night befo 

re Chrislmas, when ail thro 




ot even a mouse; 

The SI 

he chimney wirti care 


oon would be there; 


snug in their beds, 


danced in their heads 


and I in my cap, 


r a long winter's nap, 


irose such a clatter, 


what was the matter. 


212 Poems of Youth atid Age 

Away to the window I flew like a flash, 

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. 

The moon bn the breast of the new-fallen snow 

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, 

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. 

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 

And be whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; 

"Now, Dasher! now. Dancer.' now, Prancer and Vixenl 

On, Comet I on Cupid/ on, Donder and BlUsen! 

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! 

Now dash awayl dash away! dash away all!" 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly. 

When they meet with an obstacle, mount ta the sky, 

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, 

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. 

And thco, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 

The pra.ndng and pawing of each little hoof. 

As I drew in my head, an<! was turning around, 

Down the chimney St. Nicholas cajne with a bound: 

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, 

Aod his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; 

A bundle of toys he had flung oa his back, 

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. 

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! 

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! 

His droU little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; 

He had a broad face and a little round beily, 

That shook, when he lai^c<l, like a bowlful of jelly. 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, 

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; 

A wink of his eye and a tnist of his head. 

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; ■ 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, 

And filled aU the stockings; then turned with a jerk. 


On the Mornii^ of Christ's Nativity 223 . 

And laying his fingei aside of his nose. 

And giving a. nod, up the chimney he rose; 

He sprang U> his slei^, to his team gave a whisUe, 

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. 

But I heard him esclaim, ere be drove out of sight, 

"Happy Christmas to ait, and to all a good-itigkl." 

Cttnunt Chrkt Moifre {i779~iS6jl 


CoHE, bdng with a noise. 

My meny, meny boys, 
ybe Chiistmas log to the firing; 

While my good dame, she 

Bids ye all be free; 
And drink to your hearts' desiiing. 

With the last year 's brand 

Light the new block, axul 
For good success in his spendiDg, 

On your psaltries play, 

That sweet luck may 
CotDC while the log is artending. 

Dnuk now the strong beer, 

Cut the white loaf here, 
The while the meat is a^shredding; 

For the mre mince-pie 

And the plums stand by ' 
To fill the paste that's a-kneading. 

Robert Htrrick Iisgi-i6T4l 


This is the month, and this the Ijappy morn 
Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King, 
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, 
Our great redemption from above did brings 


124. Poems of Youth and Age' 

For so the holy sages once did sing 

That he our deadly foHeiC should release, 

And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 

That gtorious Fonn, that Li^t unsufferable, 

And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty 

Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high coundl-ta 

To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 

He laid aside; and, here with us to be, 

Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 

And chose with us a darksome house of mortal day. 

Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 

A£ford a present to the Infant God? 

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain 

To welcome him to this his new abode, 

Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod. 

Hath took no print of the approaching light, 

And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? 

See how from far, upon the eastern road, 

The star-led wizards haste with odors sweett 

run, prevent them with thy humble ode 

And lay it lowly at bis blessed feet; 

Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet. 

And join thy voice unto the angel choir 

From out his secret altar toudied with hallowed fire, 


It was the winter wild 

While the heaven-born Child 

All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lies; 

Nature in awe to Him 

Had doSed her gaudy trim. 

With her great Master so to sympathize: 

It was no season then for her 

To wanton wilh the sun, her lusty paramour. 

OtJy with speeches fair 
She woos the gentle air 


On the Morning of Christ's Nativity 22^ 

To hide her guilty front with iniK>cent snow; 

And on her naked shame, 1 

Pollute with sinful blame, 

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; 

Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 

Should look so near upon hei foul deformities. 

But he, ber fears to cease, 

Seat down the meek-eyed Peace; 

She, crowned with olive green, came soMy diding 

Down through the turning sphere. 

His ready harbinger, 

With turtle wing and amorous clouds dividing; 

» and land. 

The trumpet spake not to the armdd throng; 

And kings sat still with awful eye, 

As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by. - 

But peaceful was the night 

Wherein the Prince of Light 

His reign of peace upon the earth began: 

The winds, with wonder whist, 

Smoothly the waters kissed. 

Whispering new joys to the mild ocein^ 

Who now hath quite forgot to rave. ' 

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charniM wave. 

The stars, with deep amaze, 

Stand fixed in steadfast gaze, 

Bending one way their precious influence; 

And will not take their flight 

For all the morning light, 

Or Lucifer that often warned them thence; 

But in their glimmering orbs did glow 

Until thdr Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 

p:hy Google 

216 Poems of Youth and Age , 

And though the shady gloom 

Had given day her room, 

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 

And hid his head for shame, 

As his inferior flame 

The new-enlightened world no more should need; 

He saw a greater Sun appear 

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could betSj 

The shepherds on the lawn 

Or ere the point of dawn 

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; 

Full little thought they then 

TTiat the mighty Pan 

Was kindly come to live with them below; 

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep. 

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 

When such music sweet 

Their hearts and eais did greet 

As never was by mortal finger strook — 

Divinely-warbled voice 

Answering the stringed omse, 

As all their souls in blissful rapture took: 

The air, such pleasure loth to lose. 

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly dose. 

Nature, that heard such sound 

Beneath the hollow round 

Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling. 

Now was almost won 

To think her part was done, 

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling; 

She knew such harmony alone 

Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. 

At last surrounds their sight 

A globe of circular light 

That with long beams the shamefaced night arrayed; 

The helmdd Cherubim 

And sworded Seraphim 

Are seen in ghttcring ranks with wings displayed. 

p:hy Google 

On the Morning of, Christ's Nativity 227 

Harpmg in loud and schema choir ' 

With unexpressive notes, to Heaven 'a neip-bom Heir. 

Such music (as 'tis said) 

Before was never made 

But when of old the sons of morning sung; 

While the Creator great 

His constellations set 

And the well-balanced worid on hinges hung; 

And cast the daric foundations deep, • 

And bid the weltering waves their oozy dmnnd kOBp. 

Ring out, ye crystal spheres! 

Once bless our human ears, 

If ye have power to touch our seofies so; 

Aad let your silver chime 

Move in melodious time; 

And let the bass of Heaven 's deq> organ blow; 

And with your ninefold hannony 

Make up full consort to the angeUc syiqphony. 

For if 1 





And Hell itself will pass away. 

And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 

Yea, Truth and Justice then 

Will down return to men, 

Oibed in a rainbow; and, like fdcvies wearing, 

Uercy will ait between 

Throned in celestial sheen, 

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; 

And Heaven, as at some festival, 

Will open wide the gates of her high palace haB. 

But wisest Fate says No; 
This must not yet be so; 

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228 Poelhs of Youth and Age ■'■ ■ 

The Babe yet lies in smiHng infancy 

That on the bitter cross I ' . . 

Must redeem our loss; 

So both himself and us to glorify; 

Vet first, to those ychained in sleep 

The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the 

With such a horrid clang 

As on Mount Sinai raog - ' 

While the red fiie and smouldering clouds outbake: 

The a-ghd Earth aghast 

With terror of that blast >■ 

Shall from the surface to the centre shake, 

When, at the world's last sessiAn, 

The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throntt 

And then at kst our bliss 

Full and perfect is, 

But now begins; f^r from this happy day 

The old Dragon under ground, 

In straiter limits bound, i 

Not half so far casts his usurped sway; 

And, wroth to sec his kingdom fail. 

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 

The oracles are dumb; 

No voice or hideous hum 

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 

Apollo from bis shrine 

Can no more divine. 

With hollow shriek the steep of EWphoa leaving: 

No nightly trance or breathed spell 

Inspires the palc-cyed priest from the prophetic cell. 

The lonely mountains o'er . • 

And the resoundii^ shore 

A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; 

From haunted spring and dale 

Edged with poplar pale 

The parting Genius is with sighing sent: 


On the Morning of Christ's Nativity 129 

With flower-inwoven tresses tom 

The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. 

In consecrated earth 

And on the holy hearth ' 

The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint { 

In urns, and altars round 

A drear and dying sound 

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; 

And the chill marble seenw to sweat, 

While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. 

Peor and Baalim 

Forsake their temples dim, 

With ttat twice-l»Uered god of Palestine; 

And moon&l Ash ta roth 

Heaven's queen and mother both. 

Now sits not girt with tapers' hcdy shioe; 

The Lybic Hwmoon shrinks his hom: 

In vain the Tyrian maids thdr wounded Tbammuz mouin. 

Indi t; 

Isis, ste. 

Nor is Osiris seen 

Id Mempbian grove, or green, 

Trampling the unshowered grass with lowii^ loud: 

Nor can he be at rest 

Within his sacred chest; 

Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; 

In vain with timbreUed anthems dark 

The sable stolM sorcerers bear his worshiped ark. 

He feels from Juda's land 
The dreaded Infant's hand; 


230 . Poems of Youth and Age 

The rays of Bethlehem blind hid dusky eyen; 

Npr all the gods beside / 

Longer dare abide 

Nor Typbon huge ending in snaky tvioe; 

Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, 

Can in His swaddling bands contrd the danndd crcT, 

So, when the sun in bed 

Curtained with cloudy red 

Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 

The floduBg shadows pale 

Troop to the infernal jail, 

Each fettered ghost sUps to his several grave: 

And the yellow-skirted fays 

Ply after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lovetf tna^e. 

But see! the Virgin blest 

Hath laid her Babe to rest; 

Time is, our tedious song should here have flndlng: 

Heaven 's youngest teem*d Star 

Hath fixed her polished car, 

Her sleeping Lord with hand-maid lamp attending: 

And all about the courtly stable 

Bright-harnessed Angels sit in order serviceable. 

John MQtan |i6o8-i6t41 




Ik summer, when the gnas ia thick, it methei hu& fhe time. 
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a rhyme, 
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook, 
ftliere I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy- 

In winter, when the corn's asleep, and birds are not in 

And crocuses and violets have been away too long, 
Dear mother puts her thimble by in answer to my look. 
And I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy- 

And mother tells the servants that of courM they must 

To manage all the household things from four till half- 
past five, 

For we really cannot suffer intemipeion from the cook. 

When we cuddle dose together with the happy Fairy- 

NerMan Gals 1 1861- 


Fnot "A MidiumnHT-Nlibl'i Dmm' 

Over hill, over dale, 

Through bush, through brier, 
Over park, over pale, 
'Ouough flood, through &re^ 

p:hy Google 

232 Poems of Youth and Age 

J do waoder everywhere, 
Swifter than the mooDe's sphere; 
And I serve the fairy queen, 
To dew her orbs upon the green: 
The cowslips tall her pensioners be; 
In their gold coats spots you see; 
Those be rubies, fairy favors, 
In those freckles live thdf savors: 
I must go seek some dew-drops here, 
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's car. 

From "A Midmmmer-Night'a Dreuo" 

Yoa spotted snakes with double tongue, 

Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; 
Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong; 
Come not near our fairy queen. 

Philomel, with melody, 

Sing in our sweet lullaby; 

LuUa, luUa, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lulkbyl 

Never harm, 

Nor spell nor charm, 
Come our lovely lady nigh; 
So, good night, with lullaby. 

Weaving spiders, come not here; 

Hence, you long-legged spinneis, hencel 
Beetles black, approach not near; 

Womi nor snail, do no offence. 

Philomel, with melody, 
Sing in our sweet lullaby; 
Lulla, luUa, luUaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! 

Never harm. 

Nor spell nor charm, 
Come our lovely lady nigh; 
So, good-night, with tuUaby. 


Queen Mab 

Fnbi "Tbe TemiKit" 

Come unto these yellow sands, 

And then take hands: 
Court 'sied when you have, and kissed,— 

The wild waves whist,^ 
Foot it teatly here and there; 
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. 
Hark, hark! 
Bow, wow, 
The watch-dogs baik: 

Bow, wow. 
Hark, hark! I hear 
The strain of slratting chanticleer 
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dowl 

Where the bee sucks, there suck I: 

In a CDvrsUp's bell I lie; 
There I couch when owls do cry. 
On the bat 's back I do fly 
After summer merrily: 

Merrily, (nerrily, shall I live now, 
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 
William Stuxkespeare [1564-1616J 

From "The SMyr" 

This is Mab, the Mtatresa-Fofiy, 

That doth nightly rob the dairy 
And can hurt or help the churning, 
As she please without discerning. 

She that pinche* country wenches 
I( they rab not dean their benches, 

p:hy Google 

234 Poems of Youth and Age 

And wilh sharper nails remembers 
When they rake not up their embers: 
But if so they chance to feast her, 
In a shoe she drops a tester. 

This is she that empties cradles, 
Takes out children, puts in ladles: 
Trains forth old wives in their slumber 
With a sieve the holes to number; 
And then leads them from her burrows, 
Home through ponds and vi-ater-furrows. 

She can start oar Franklins' dau^ter^, 
In their sleep, with shrieks and laughters; 
And on sweet Saint Anna's night 
Feed them with a protmised si^t. 
Some of husbands, some of lovers, 
Which an empty dream discovers. 

Ben Jonson 11573^-1637] 


Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf, 
Out of the rain, to shelter hiitisdf. 

Under the toadstool sound asleep, 
Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap. 

Trembled the wee Elf, frightened, and yet 
Fearing to dy away lest he get wet. 

To tie next shelter— maybe a mile! 
Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile. 

Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two. 
Holding it over him, gnyly be flcnr. 

Soon he was safe home, dry as could be. 

Soon woke the Dormouse — "Good gracious me! 

"Where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented. 
— And that's how umbrellas first were invented. 
outer Ha^dlitAi- 


Fairy Soiig 235 


Tluvias Hayrtes Bajly [iTgr-iS 


FYom "AmyDCu'' 

We the Fairies, blithe and antic, 
Of dimenaioDs oot gigantic, 
Though the moonshine mostly keep us, 
Oft is orchards frisk and peep us. 

p:hy Google 

236 Poems of Youth and Age 

Stolen sweets are always sweeter, 
Stolen tisses much completer, 
Stolen looks are nice in chapels. 
Stolen, stolen be your apples. 

When to bed the world is bobbing. , 

Then's the time for orchard-robbing; , 
Vet the fruit were scarce worth peeling 
Were it not for stealing, stealing, 
Trarukled by IMgh Hunt from the Latin of Thoma^ Randdpk 


I couE from woods enchaunt^, 

Starlit and pixey-haunted, 
Where 'twixt the bracken and the twes 
The goblins lie and take their ease; 

By winter moods undaunted. , -, 

There down the golden gravel 

The laughing rivers travel; ' 

Elves wake at nights and whispct low 
Between the bracken and the snow 

Their dreamings to unravel. 

Twisted and lank and hairy, _ 

With wanton eyes and wary, 
They stretch and chuckle in the wind, 
For one has found a mermaid kind, ' 

And one has kissed a fairy. ^ 

They know no melancholy. 

But fashion crowns of holly. 

And gather sleep within the brake 
To deck a kingdom when they wake, 

And bless the dreamer's folly. 

Ah! would that I might follow 

The servants of Apollo! 

But it is sweet to heap the honre 
With quiet dreams and poppy-flowers, 

Down in the pixies' hollow. 

Richard Middkloit (i Sj-igii] 

p:hy Google 

<2ueen Mab ^37 


Shbdso teail O, abed do tearl 
The flower will bloom another year. 
We^ no more! 0, weep do morel 
YouDg buds sleep in the root's white mn- 
Dry your eyes! O, dry your eyesi 
Foi I was taught is Paradise 
" To ease my breast o( melodies, — 

Shed no tear. 

Overhead! look overhead! 
'MoTig the blossoms wlute and red,— 
Look up, look up! I flutter now 
On this flush pomegranate bough. 
See me! 'tis this silvery biH 
Ever cures the good man 's ill, — 
Shed no tear! 0, shed no (eart 
The flower will bloom another year. 
Adieu, adieu — I fly— adieu! 
I vani^ in the heaven's blue, — 

Adieu, adieu 1 
Jokn Keat* {i»S-i8iil 


A UTTLE fairy comes at night. 
Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown, 

With silver spots upon her wings, 

And from the moon she flutters down. 

She has a little silver wand, 
And when a good child goes to bed 

She Ti-aves her hand from right to left. 
And ni^es a circle round its head. 

And then it dreams of pleasant tWngs, 
Of fountains filled with fairy flsh, 

And trees that bear delicious fruit, 
And bow their brandies at a wish: 

p:hy Google 

238 Poems of Youth and Age 

Of arbors filled with dainty scents 
From lovely fioweis that never fade; 

Bright flies that ghtter in the sun, 
And glow-worms shining in the iliadfi: 

And talking birds with gifted tonguei, 
For singing songs and telling tales, 

And pretty dwarfs to show the way 
Through fairy hills and fairy dafes. 

But when a bad child goes to bed. 
From left to right she weaves her rings. 

And then it dreams all through the night 
Of only ugly horrid thin^! 

Then lions come with glaring eyes, 
And tigers growl, a dreadful OQise, 

And ogres draw their cruel kiuve?. 
To shed the blood of girls and boys. 

Then stormy waves rush on to dnmn, 
Or raging flames come scorching round. 

Pierce dragons hover in the air, 
And serpents crawl along the ground. 

Then wicked children wake and weep. 
And wish the long black gloom away; 

But good ones love the dark, and find 
The night as pleasant as the day. 

Thomas B«od [1700-1845] 


"AuD where have you been, my Maiy, 
And where have you been from me?" 

"I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low, 
The midsummer night to $ee!" 


The Fidrie* of the C8ldoi>-Low 239 

"And what did you sec, my Mary, 

All up on the Caldon-Low?" 
"I saw the ^ad sDnBhine come down. 

And I saw the merry windi blow." 

"And what did you hear, my Maiy, 

All up on the Caidoa-HiU?" 
"I heard the dtops of the water made. 

And the ears of the gieen com fill." 

"CMi, tell me all, my Maiy — 
All — all that ever you know; 
For you must have seen the fames 
Last night on thie Caldoo-Lowl" 

"Then take me on your knee, mother, 
And listen, mother of mine: 
A bundled fairies danced last night, 
And the harpers they were nine. 

"And their harp-strings rang so merrily 
To their dancing feet so smalli 
But, oh! the words of their talking 
Were mecrier far than alll" 

"And what were the worda, my Mary, 
That you did he&r tbem say?" 

"Ill teQ you all, my mother. 
But let me hive my way. 

"Some of them played with the water. 
And rolled it down the hill; 
'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily tun) 
The poor old miller's mill. 

"'For there has been no water 
Ever since the ficet of May; 
And a busy qian' wfU the millei; be . / 
At the dftwung 4f Ibe dayl 

p:hy Google 

440 Poems of Youth and Age 

" 'Oh! the miller, how be will laugh, 
When he sees the mill-dain risel 
The jolly old miller, how be will laugh, 
Till the tears &U both his eyes! ' 

"And some they seized the little winds. 
That sounded over the hill, 
And each put a horn into his mouth. 
And blew both loud and shrill: 

" 'And there,' said they, 'the merry winda go 
Away from every horn; 
And they shall clear the mildew dank 
From the blind old widow's com: 

" 'Oh, the poor blind widow — 

Though she has been blind so bng, 
She'll be merry enough when the mildew's gone, 
And the com stands tall and strong!' 

"And some they brou^t the brown linseed 
And flung it down the Low; 
'And this,' said they, ' by the sunrise 
In the weaver's croft shall growl 

" 'Oh, the poor lame weaver! 
How will he laugh outright 
When he sccr his dwindling flax-field 
All (uU of flowers by night! ' 

"And then outspoke a brownie, 
With a long beard on his chin: 
'I have spun up all the tow,' said he, 
'And I want some more to spin. 

" 'I've spun a piece of hempen doth 
And I want to spin another — 
A little sheet for Mary's bed, 
hnd an apron for her motherl' 


The Fairies 141 

" With that I could not help but laugh, 
And I lauKbed out loud and free; 
And then on tbe top of the Caldoa-Low 
There was no one left but rae. 

"And all OD the top of the Caldon-Low 
The mists were cold aod gray, 
And nothing I saw but (he mossy stones 
That round about me lay. 

"But, coming down from the hill<top, 
I heard, afar below, 
How busy the jolly miller was, 
And how meny the wheel did gol 

"And I peeped into the widow's field. 
And, sure enough, was seen 
The yellow ears of the mildewed com 
All standing stout and green. 

"And down the weaver's croft I stole, 
To see if the flax Were sprung; 
And 1 met the weaver at his gate 
With the good news on his tonguel 

"Now, this is aU I heard, mother. 
And all that I did see; 
So, prithee, make my bed, mother. 
For I'm tired as I can bel " 

Mary ffou^l [i7qi)-tSSSJ 


Up the airy mountain, 

Down the rushy glen. 
We daren't go a-hunting 

For fear of little men; 
Wee folk, good folk, 

Trooping all together; 
Green jacket, red cap. 

And white owl's featherl 

p:hy Google 

1^2 Poems of Youth and Age 

Down along the tocky ahoie 

Some make their home. 
They live on crispy pancakes 

Of yellow tide-foam; 
Some in the reeds 

Of the black mountain l^e, 
With frc^ for their watch-dogs, 

All night awake. 

High on the hill-top 

The old King sits; 
He is now so oid and gray 

He's nigh lost his wits. 
With a bridge of white mist 

Columbkill he crosses, 
On his stately journeys 

From Slieveleague to Rosses; 
Or going up with musk 

On cold starry nights 
To sup with the Queen 

Of the gay Northern Lights. 

They stole little Bridget 

For seven years long; 
When she came down again 

Her friends were all gone. 
They took her lightly back, 

Between the night and morrow, 
"ITiey thought that she was fast asleep. 

But she was dead with sorrow. 
They have kept her ever since 

Deep within the lake, 
On a bed of flag-leaves, 

Watching till she wake. 

By the craggy hill-flide. 

Through the mosses bare. 
They have planted thorn-trees 

For pJesGure hrac and there. 

p:hy Google 

TUe Fiiry Thrall J43 

If any man so Hgrj^^ 

Aa dig iJksi tip ia s^te. 
He ^uil fiad tW shaipest thorns - 

Id his bed at night. 

Up the airy mountain, 

Down the rushy glen. 
We daren't go a-huniing 

For fear of little men; 
Wee folk, good folk. 

Trooping ail together; 
Green jacket, red cap. 

And white owl's fealherl 

WiUiam AlHnghavi [i8i4'>S8(i] 


On gossamer nights when the m«wn is low, 

And stais in the mist ore hiding, 
Over the hill where the fosglovea grow 
You may see the fairies riding. 
KUngl KhtDgl Kling! 
Their stirrups aad their bridles ring, 
And their horns arc loud and their bugles l>low, 
When the moon is low. 

Tley sweep through (he night like a wbistliqg wind. 

They pass and have left no traces; 
But one of them lingers far behind 
The flight of the fairy faces. 

She makes no moan, ; 

She sorrows in the dark alime. 
She wails for the love of human kind, 
Like a whistling wind. 

"Ahl why did I Doam where the elfins ride, ,. 

Their Simmering steps to foUowP 
They bore me far frwn my loved one's side, , 

To wander o'er hiU a^ d hoUow. 


l44 Poems of Youth and Age 

Kling! RJang! Kling! 

Their stirrups and their bridles ring. 
But my heart is cold in the cdd ni^t-tide, 
Where the elfins ride." 

Mary C. C. Byron |i86i- 


Farewell, rewards and fairies! 

Good housewives now may say, 
For now foul sluts in dairies 

Do fare as well as they. 
And though they sweep their hearths no lei 

Than maids were wont to do. 
Yet who of late, for cleanliness, 

Finds sixpence in ber shoe? 

Lament, lament, old abbeys. 

The fairies' lost command 1 
They did but change priests' babies, 

But some have changed your land; 
And all your children sprung from thence. 

Are now grown Puritanes; 
Who live as changelings ever ^nce. 

For love of your demains. 

At morning and at evening Ixith 

You merry were and glad ; 
So little care of sleep or sloth 

These pretty ladies had; 
When Tom came home from labor, 

Or Ciss to milking rose, 
Then merrily merrily went their tabor 

And nimbly went their toes. 

Witness those rings and roundelays 

Of theirs, which yet remain. 
Were footed in Queen Mary's days 

On many a grassy plain; 


The Fairy Folk '345 

But since of late, ] 

And later, James catne-in. 


34^ Poems of Youth and Age 

They love to visit giiis aad boys i 

To see bow sweet they, deep, 
To stand beude their cosy cots 

And at their faces peq>, 
For in the whole of fairy-land , 

They have no finer sight 
Than little children sleeping sound . 

With faces rosy bnght. 

On tip-toe crowding round tfadr heids, 

When bright the moonlight beams. 
They whi^r Mttle tender words 

That fill their minds with dreams; 
And when they see a sunny smile, ■ 

With lightest finger tips 
They lay a hundred kisses sweet 

Upon the ruddy hps. 

And then the little spotted moths ' 

Spread out their crimson w&gs, 
And bear away the fairy crowd' ' ' 

With shaking bridle rings. 
Come, baimies, hide in daddy's coat, 

Beade the fire so bright — 
Perhaps the little fairy folk 

Will visit you to-night. 

Seben Bird [1S67- 


When Mother takes the Fany Book 
And we curl up to hear, 

'Tis "All aboard for Faiiylandl" 
Which seems to be so near. 

For soon we reach the pleasant place 

Of Once Upon a Time, 
Where birdies sing the hour of dajJ, 

And flowers talk in rhyme; ] - 

Where Bobby is a velvet Prince, ]■ 
And where I am a Que^a; 


Where one can talk nith animals. 

And m3k about unsceai 
Where Little People live in nuts, 

And ride on butterflies, 
And wonders kindly come to pass 

Before your very eyes; 

Where candy gnms on every busb, 

And playthings on the trees, 
And viators pick basket! uls 

As often as they please. 
It is the nicest time of day — 

Though Bedtime is so near, — 
When Mother takes the Fairy Book 

And we curl up to hear. 

Ahbie FarmU Brown {iS 

The white goat Amaryllis, 

She wandered at her will 
At time of daffodillies 

Afar and up the hill: 
We hunted and we holloa 'd 

And back she came at dawn, 
But what d'you think had followed?— 

A little, pagan Faun! 

His face was like a berry, 

His ears were high and pricked: 
Tip-lap — his hoofs came merry 

As up the path he clicked; 
A junket for his winning 

We set in dairy delf ; 
He eat it— peart and grinning 

As Christian as yourself! 

He stayed abqiU the steading 

A fortnight, say, ot more; 
A blanket for his bedding 

We spread beside the dow; 


248 Poems of Youth and Age 

And when the cocks crowed ciatirl^ 
Before the dawn was ripe, 

He'd call the milkmaids cheerly 
Upon a reedy pipe! 

That fortnight of his staying 

The work went smooth as alk: 
The hens were all in laying, 

The cows were all in milk ; 
And then— and then one morning 

The maids woke up at day 
Without his oaten warning.— 

And found he'd gone away. 

He left no trace behind him; 

But still the milkmaids deem 
That they, perhaps, may find him 

With butter and with cream: 
Beside the door they set them 

In bowl and golden pat, 
But no one comes to get them— 

Unless, maybe, the cat. 

The white goat Amaryllis, 

She wanders at her will 
At time of daffodillies, 

Away up Woolcombe hill; 
She stays until the morrow, 

Then back she cwnes at dawn; 
But never — to our sorrow — 

The little, pagan Faun. 

Palricli R. Ckaiwurs [18 


I MET a little Elf-man, once, 
Down where the lilies Mow. 

I asked him why he was so small, 
And why he didn't grow. 

p:hy Google 

The Satyrs and the Moon 249 

He slightly frowned, and with his eye 
He looked me through and through. 

"I'm quite as big (or me," said he, 
"As you are big for you." 

■John Kendrick Bangs [1861- 


WmuN the wood behind the hill 
The moon got tangled in the trees. 

Her splendor made the branches thrill 
And thrilled the breeze. 

The satyrs in the grotto bent 

Their heads to see the wondrous aght. 
" It is a god in banishment 

That stirs the night." 

The little satyr looked and guessed: 

"It is an apple that one sees, 
Brought from that garden o( the West — 


"U b a Cyclops' glaring eye." 
"A temple dome from Babylon." 

"A Titan's cup of ivory." 

The tiny ^tyr jumped for Joy, 
And kicked his hoofs in utmost glee. 

"It is a ivondrous silver toy- 
Bring it tomel" 

A great wind whistled through the blue 
And caught the moon and tossed it high; 

A bubble of pale fire it flew 
Across the sky. 

The satyrs ga^)ed and looked and smiled, 
And wagged their heads from sid« to side, 

Eiccpt their shaggy little child, 
Who cried and cried. 

Htrbtrt S. Gtrmtn [iS 




When the lessons and tAtia are all ended. 
And the school for the day is dismiised, 

The little ones gather around me. 
To bid me good night and be kissedi 

Oh, the Jittle white arms that encircle 
My neck in their tender embrace! 

Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven, 
Shedding sunshine of love on my lace! 

And when they are gone, I sit dreaming 

Of my childhood too lovely to last, — 
Of joy that my heart will remember, 

While it wakes to the pulse of the past, 
Ere the world and its wickedness made me 

A partner of sorrow and sin, 
When the glory of God was about me, 

And the glory of gladness within. 

All toy heajt grows as weak aa a woman's. 

And the fountain of feeling will flow. 
When I think of the paths steep and stony. 

Where the feet of the dear ones must go,— 
Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them, 

Of the tempest of fate blowing wild; — 
Oh, there's nothing on earth half so holy 

As the innocent heart of a child! 

They are idds of hearts and of households; 

They are angeb of God in disguise; 
His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses, 

His ^ory still shines in their eyes; 


The Children 

Those truants from home and from heaven, — 
They have made me more manly and mild; 

And I know now how Jesus could liken 
The kingdom of God to a duld. 

I ask not a life for the dear cmes, 

AH radiant, as others have dwie, 
But that life may have just enough shadow 

To temper the glare of the sun; ' 

I would pray God to guard them from evil, 

But my prayer would bound back to myself;- 
Ab! a seraph may pray for a sinner. 

But a sinner must pray for himself. 

To traverse its threshold no more; 
Ah, how I shall sigh for the dear ones 

That meet me each mom at the door! 
I shall miss the "good nights" and the kisses, 

And the gush of their innocent glee, 
The group on the green, and the flowers 

That are brought every moming iox tue. 

I shall miss them at mom and at even. 

Their song in the school and the street; 
I shall ndsB the low hum of their voices. 

And the tread of their ddicate feet. ' 
When the lessons of life are all ended. 

And death says: "The school is dismissedl" 
May the little ones gather around me, 

To bid ms good night and be kissed! 

Charia Monroe Dickiiuon [1841- 


Poems of Youth and Age 


Between the dark and the daylight. 
When the night is beginnmg to lower, 

Comes a pause in the day's occupatioas. 
That is known as the Children's Hour. 

I hear in the chamber above me 

The patter ol littJe feet, , 

The sound of a door that is opened, 
And voices soft and sweet. 

From my study I see in the lamplight, ' 
Descending the broad hall stair, 

Grave Alice, and laughing AUegra, 
And Edith with golden hair. 

A whisper, and then a silence: 
Yet I know by their merry eyes 

They are plotting and planning together 
To take me by surprise. 

A sudden rush from the stairway. 

A sudden raid from the hall! ' 

By three doors left unguarded 

They enter my castle walll 

They climb up into my turret 
O'er the arms and back of my chair; 

If I try to escape, they surround me; 
They seem to be everywhere. 

They almost devour me with kisses. 
Their arms about me entwine, 

Til! I think of the Bishop of Bingen 
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhinel 

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, 
Because you have scaled the wall. 

Such an old mustache as I am 
Is not a- match for you all I 


The Desire 

I have you fast in my. Fortress, 
And will not let you depart, 

But put you down into the dungeon 
In the round-tower of my heart. 





Give me no mansions ivory white 
Nor palaces of pearl and gold ; 
Give me a child for all delight, 
Just four years old. 


254 Poems of Youth, and Age 

Give me do wings of rosy shine 
Nor snowy raiment, fold on fold, 
Give me a little boy all mine. 
Just four years old. 

Give me no gold and starry crown 
Nor harps, nor palm branches unrolled; 
Give me a nestling head of brovm. 

Just four years old. 

Give me a cheek that's like the peach, 
Two arms to clasp me from the cold; 
And all my heaven's within ray reach, 

Just four years old. 

All the bells of heaven may ring, 

One thing yet there is, that none, 
Hearing ere its chime be done, 
Knows not well the sv.ectest onei 
Heard of man beneath the sun, 

Hoped in heaven hereafter; 
Soft and strong and loud and light, 


Seven Years Old 

Very sound of very li^t, 
Heard from moming'a rosiest height, 
When the soul of all ddigbt, 
Fills a chitd's dear Utu^tei. 

Golden bells of welcome rolled 
Never forth such note, nor told 
Hours so blithe in tones so bold, 

burnt hSjT-iQogI 

Seven white toses on one Icee, 
Seven white loaves of blameless leaven, 
Seven white sails on one soft sea, 
Seven white swans on one lake's lea, 
Seven white flowerhke stars in Heaven, 
All aie types unmeet to be 
For a birthday's crown (A seven. 

. Not the radiance of the roses, 
Not the blessing of the bread, 
Not the breeze that ere day grows is 
Fresh for sails and swans, and closes 
Wings above the sun's grave spread 
When the starshine on the snows is 
Sweet as sleep on sorrow shed. 

Nothing sweeter, nothing best. 
Holds so good and sweet a treasure 
As the love wherewith once blest 
Joy grows holy, grief takes rest, 
Life, half tired with hours to measure, 
FiUs his eyes and lips and breast 
With most light and breath of pleasure; 


256 Poems of Youth and Age 

As the rapture unpolluted, 

As the passion undefiled. 

By whose force all pains heart-rooted 

Are transfigured and transmuted, 
Recompensed and reconciled, 
Through the imperial, undisputed, 
Present godhead of a child. 

Brown bright eyes and fair bright head, 
Worth a worthier crown than this is, 
Worth a worthier song instead. 
Sweet grave wise round mouth, full fed 
With the joy of love, whost bliss is 
More than mortal wine and bread, 
Lips whose words arc sweet as kisses. 

Little hands so glad of giving, 

Little heart so glad of love. 

Little soul so glad of living, 

While the strong swift hours are weaving 

Light with darkness woven above, 

Time for mirth and time for grieving. 

Plume of raven and plume of dove. 

I can give you but a word 

Warm with love therein for leaven, 

But a song that falls unheard 

Yet on ears of sense unstirred 

Yet by song so far from Heaven, 

Whence you came the brightest bird. 

Seven years since, of seven times seven. 

Algernon Charits Swinburne [1837- 


Creep awa', mybaimie, creep afore ye gang, 
Cock ye baith your lugs to your auld Grannie's sang: 
Gin ye gang as far ye will think the road lang. 
Creep awa', my bairnie, creep afore ye gang. 


Castles in the Air 257 

Creep awa', my bainiie, yc'ie ower young t9 leant 
To tot up aod down yet, my bcHinie wee baira; 
Better crecpin' cannie, thao fa'in' »i' a bang, 
Duntin' a' your wee hrow, — creep afore ye gan^ 

Yell creep, an' ye'U hotch, an' ye'll nod to your mither, 
Watchin' ilka step o' your wee dousy brither; 
Rest >-e on the floor till your wee limbs grow Strang, 
An' ye'U be a braw chie! yet, — creep afore ye gang. 

The wee birdie fa'a when it tries ower soon to flee, 
Folks are sure to tumble, when they climb ower hie; 
They wha canna walk rij^t are sure to come to wning. 
Creep awa', my baimie, creep afore ye gang. 

JoMM BtillantiHtiitaS-itjj] 


The bonnie, bonnie bairn who sits poking in the ase, 
dowering in the fire wi' his wee round face. 
Laughing at the fuflin' lowe-Tvbat sees he there? 
Ha! the young dreamer's bigging castles in the an-. 

Hb wee chubby face and hU touzie curly pow 
Are laughing and nodding to the dancing lowe; 
Hell brown his rosy cheeks, and singe his sunny hair, ' 
Glowering at the icipe wi' their castles in the air. 

He sees muckle castles towering to (he moon; 

He sees little sodgers pu'ing them a' doun; 

Warids whommlin' up and doun, bleezing wi' a flare,— 7 

See how he loups as they glimmer in the airl 

For a' sae sage he looks, what can the laddie ken? 
He's thinking upon naething, like mony mighty men: 
A wee thing mak's us think, a sma' thing mak's us Stare,- 
TTierc are mrfr folk than him bigging castles in the air; 

Sc a m'ght in winter may wecl mak' him cauld; 
Hti diin upon his bu&y hand will soon mak' him ^uld; 
His brow is brent sae braid— O piay that daddy Case 
Wad kt the wean alaiw wi' his castles in the airl 

p:hy Google 

258 Poems of Youth and Age 

He'll glower at the fire, and he'll keek at the llglii; 
But mony sparkling stara are swallowed up by Night: 
Aulder e'en than his are glamored by a glare, — 
Hearts are broken, heads are turned, wi' castla in the air. 


Undek my window, under my window. 

All in the M>dsumm» weather, 
Three little girls with flutt«ritig ouls 

Flit to and fro together; — 
There's Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen, 
And Maud with her mantle of silver-gieeo. 

And Kate with her scarlet feather. 

Under my window, under my window, 
Leaning stealthily over, . . 

Merry and dear, the voice I hear 
Of each glad-hearted rover. 

Ah! sly little Kate, she steals my roses; 

And Maud and Bell twine wreaths and posies, 
As meriy as bees in clover. 

Under my window, under my window, 

In the blue Midsummer weather. 
Stealing si 

I catch 
Bell with I 
And Mauc n,. 


Under my window, under iny window, 

And off through the orchard doses; , . 

While Maud ^e Routs, and Bell she pouts, . 

They scamper and drop their posies; 
But dear little Kate takes naught amiss, 
And leaps in my arms with a loving kbs. 

And I give her alt my roses. 

Thomas WeslmMd [lau^-tSBS] 



E Ancient Hju 

Piped the blackbird on tKe beechwood spt&y 
"Pretty mud, dow waadering this way. 

What's your name?" quoth he — 
"What's yout name? Oh stop and strai^t unfold. 
Pretty maid with showery curls <rf gold," — 

"Little Bell," said she. 

Uttle Bell sat down beneath the rocks — 
Tossed aside her gleaming golden locks— 

"Bonny bird," quoth she, 
"Sing me your best song before I go." 
"Here's the very finest song I know, 

Little Bell," said he. 

And the blackbird piped; yoa never heard 

Half so gay a song horn any bird- 
Full of quips and wiles, 

Now so round and rich, now soft and slow. 

All for love of that sweet face below, 
Dimpled o'er with aniles. 

And the while the bonny bird did pour 
Hb full heart out freely o'er and o'er 

'Neath the morning skies, 
In the litde childish heart below 
All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, 
And shine forth in happy overflow 

From the blue, bright eyes. 

Down the dell she tripped and through the glade, 
Peeped the squirrel from the haze] shade, 

And from out the tree 
Swung, and leaped, and frolicked, void of fear, — 
While bold Uackbird piped that all migltt bifa — 

"Littfe Bell," i»ped he. 


26o Poems of YoutK and Age 

Little Bell sat down amid the (em — 
"Squirrel, to your task return — 

Bring me nuts," quoth she. 
Up, away the frisky squirrel hies — 
Golden wood-lights glancing in his eyes — 

And adown the tree, 
Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July biw, 
In the little lap dropped one by one — 
Hark, how blackbird pipes to see the funi 

"Happy Bdl." pipes he. 

Little Bell looked up and down the glade — 
"Squirrel, squirrel, if you're not afr^d,. 

Come and share with mel" 
Down came squirri:! uager for his fare — 
Down came boimy blackbird I declare; 
Little Bell gave each his honest share — 

Ah the merry three! 
And (he while these frolic playmates twain 
Piped and frisked from bough lo bough again,; 

'Neath the morning skies, r 

In the little childish heart below 
All the sweetness seemed to grow and gcow, 
And shine out is happy overflow 

From her blue, bright eyes. 


Prays so lovingly?" 
Low and soft, oh! very low and soft. 
Crooned the blackbird in the orchard croft, 

"Bell, dear Bell!" crooned he. 

"Whom God's creatures love," the angeH fair 
Murmured, "God doth Uess 'with tngds' care; 


The Barefoot Boy 

Child, thy bed shaU be 
Folded safe from harm— Love deep and kind 
Shall watch around and leave good gifts behind, 

Little Bell, for tbeel" 

Tkomo) Weitwood |i8i4?-iei 


Blessings on thee, little man, 
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan I 
With thy turned-up pantaloons. 
And thy merry whistled tunes; 
With thy red lip, redder still 
Kissed by strawberries on the hill; 
With the sunshine on thy face. 
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; 
From my heart I give thee joy,— 
1 was once a barefoot boy! 
Prince thou art,— the grown-up nian 
Only is republican. 
Let the million-doUared ride! 
Barefoot, trudging at his side. 
Thou hast more than he can buy 
In the reach of ear and eye,^ 
Outward sunshine, inward joy; 
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! 

Oh for boyhood's painless play, 
Sleep that wakes in laughing day, 
Health that mocks the doctor's rules, 
Knowledge never learned of schools, 
Of the wild bee's morning chase, 
Of the wild flower's lime and place. 
Flight of fowl and habitude 
Of the tenants of the wood; 
How the tortoise bears his shell, 
How the woodchuck digs his cell. 
And the ground-mole sinks his well; 
How the robin feeds her young. 
How the oriok's ncet is huOgj 


i62 Poems of Youth and Age 

Where the whitest lilies blow, 
Where the freshest bemes grow, 
Where the giound-mit trails iU vine, 
Where the wood-grape's duateis ^liae; 
Of the black wasp's cunning way, 
Mason of his walls of clay, 
And the architectural plans 
Of gray hornet artisansi 
For, eschewing books and tasks, 
Nature answers all he asks; 
* Hand in hand with her he walks. 

Face to face with her he laJks, 
Part and pared of her joy, — 
Blessings on the barefoot boy! 

Oh for boyhood's time of June, 
Crowding years in one brief moon. 
When all things I heard or saw, 
Me* their master, waited for. 

Oh for festal dainties spread, 
Like my bowl of milk and bread; 


The Heritage 26;^ 

Pewter q)06D and bowt of wood, 
On the dooT'Stone, gray and nidel 
o'er me, like a regal tent, 
Cloudy-dbbed, the sunset bent. 
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, 
Locf>eil in many a wiiid'swung fold; 
While for music came the play 
0£ the pied frogs' orchestra; 
And, to light the noisy chmr. 
Lit the fly his lamp of fire. 
I wa£ monarch: pomp and joy 
Waited on the l«refoot boy! 

Cheerily, then, my little man, 
Live and laugh, as boyhood can! 
Though the flinty slopes be hard, 
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, 
Every mom shall lead thee through 
Fresh baptisms of the d^w; 
Every evening from thy feet 
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: 
All too soon these feet must hide 
In the priam cells of pride, 
Lose the freedom of the sod. 
Like a colt's for work be shod, 
Matje to tread the mills of toil. 
Up and down in ceaseless moil: 
Happy if their track be found 
Never on forbidden groimd; 
IJappy a they sink not in 
Quick and treacherous sands of sin. 
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy. 
Ere it passes, barefoot boy I 

Jekn CfceitUaf Whillier (iSot-iSosJ 


The rich man 's son inherits knds, 

And ^es of brick and stone, and g 
And he inherits soft white hands, 

p:Sy Google 

a64 Poems of Youth and Age 

And tender flesh that fears tbe odd, 
Nor dares to wear a gament <dd; 
A heritage, it scents to me, 
One scarce would wish to hold in ttt. 

The rich man's son inherits cares; • 
The bank may break, the factory bum, 

A breath may burst his bubble shares, , 
And soft white hands could hanlly earn 
A living that would serve his turn; 

A heritage, it seems to me. 

One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 

The rich man's son inherits trants, 
His stomach cravcsfor dainty fare; 

With sated heart, he hears the pants 
Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare. 
And wearies in his easy-chair; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

One scarce "would wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man 's son inherit? 

Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, 
A hardy frame, a hardier spirit, 

King of two hands, he does his part 

In every useful toil and art; 
A heritage, it seems to me, 
A king might wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit? 
Wishes o 'erjoyed with humble things, 

A rank adjudged by toil-won merit, 
Content that from employment springs, 
A heart tliat in his labor sings; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

A king might wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man 's son inherit? 

A patience learned of being poot. 
Courage, if sorrow come, to 


Letty's Globe 26 j 

A fdkrw-feding that is sure 
To make the outcast bless his door; 
A hentagCi it seems to me, 
A king mi^t wish to hdd io fee. 

O rich man's son! (here is a toil 
That with all othere level stands; 

Large charity doth never soil, 
But only whiten, soft white hands; 

Both, heirs to some six feet of sod, 

Are equal in the -earth at last; 
Both, children of the same dear God, 

Prove title to your heirship vast 

By record of a well-filled past; 
A heritage, it seems to mc, 
WeU worth a life to hold in fee. 

James Riuseil Lomell [18(9-1891] 



When Letty had scarce passed her third glad year. 

And her young artless words began to flow, 

One day we gave the child a colored sphere 

Of the wide Earth, that she might mark and know. 

By tint and outline, all its sea and land. 

She patted all the world ; old Empires peeped 

Between her baby Angers; her soft hand 

Was welcome at all frontiers, fiow she leaped, 

p:hy Google 

16 Poems of Youth and Age 

And laughed and prattled in ber irarld-widc blissl 
But when we turned her sweet unJeamdd eye 
On our own Isle, she raised a joyous cry, — 

"O yesi I see it, Letty's home is there!" 
And white she hid all England with a kiss. 
Bright over Europe fell her goldea hair. 

Charles Tennyson Turner [i8o8-iB7gl 


"Sylvia, hush!" I said, "come here, 

Come see a fairy-tale, my dear! 
Tales told arc good, tales seen are best!" 
The dove was brooding on the nest 
In the lowest crotch of the apple tree. 
I lifted her up so quietly. 
That when she could have touched the bird 
The soft gray creature had not stirred. 
It looked at us with a wild dark eye. 
But, "Birdie, fly!" was Sylvia's cry, 
Impatient Sylvia, "Birdie, fly." 
Ah, well; but when I touched the neat, 
The child recoiled upon my breast. 
Was ever such a startling thing? 
Sudden silver and purple wing, 
The dove was out, away, across. 
Struggling heart-break on the grass. 
And there in the cup within the tree 
Two milk-white eggs were ours to see. 
Was ever thing so pretty? Alack, 
"Birdie!" Sylvia cried, "come back!" 

Joseph Rusieit Taylor (186&- 


I LAY upon the summer grass. 

A gold-haired, sunny child came Iqr, 
And looked at me, as loath to pass. 

With questions in her lingering eye. 


To a Uttle Girl 267 

She stnpped and wavered,' then diew near, 

(Abl the pale gi^ tuviUid her head!) 
And o'er my ahmilder sUH>ped to peer. 

"Why do you read? " sJie said. 

"And now I read him, nncc u 


You taught me ways of gracefulness and Fadnona of:adch:es3. 
The mode of plucking panstea and the art of sowing cksb. 
And tiow to handle puppies, with propitiatory pats 
For mother dogs, and little acts of courtesy to cats. ' 

connoisseur of pebbles, colored leaves and trickling rills. 
Whom seasons fit as do the sheaths that wrap the daffodils. 
Whose eyes' divine eipectaucy foretells some starry goal, 
You taught me here docility— and how to save my soul. 
Bden Parry Eden I18 


Her eyes are like foi^et-me-nots. 
So loving, kind and true; 

Her lips are like a pink sea-shell 
Just as the sun shines through; 


68 Poems of Youth and Age 

Her hair is like the waving graiii 
In summer's golden light; 

And, best of all, her little aoul 
Is, like a lily, white. 

Ciulav Kabbi IiSjr- 



Taou happy, happy elf! 
(But stop, — first let me kiss away that tear!) 

Thou tiny image of myself! 
(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!) 
Thou merry, laughing sprite. 
With spirits feather-light. 
Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin, — . 
(My dear, the child is swallowing a pin!) 

Thou little tricksy Puck! 

With antic toys so funnily bestuck, 

LigKt as the singing bird that wings the air, — 

(The door! the door! hcTl tumble down, the stair!) 

Thou daiiiog of thy sire! 

(Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore aiiie!) 

Thou imp of mirth and joy! 
In Love's dear chain so strong and bright a link, 

Thou idol of thy parents,— (Drat the boy! 
There goes my ink!) 

Thou cherub,— but of earth; 
Fit playfellow for Fays, by moonlight pale. 

In harmless sport and mirth, 
(That dog will bite him, if he pulls its tail!) 

Thou human humming-bee, extracting honey 
From every blossom in the world that blows, 

Singing in youth's Elysium ever sunny. — 
(Another tumble! That's his precious nose!) 

Thy father's pride and hope! 

(He'll break the mirror with that skipping-rope!) 


A New Poet i6g 

With pure heart nevly stamped from nature!a mint, 
(Wiere did he leant that squint?) 
Thou young domestic dove! 
(Hell have that jug oS with another shovei) 
Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest! 
(Are these tore dothes his best?) 
Little epitome of mani 
(He'll climb upon the table, that's his plan!) 
Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning life, — 
(He's got a knife!) 

Tfiou enviable being! 

No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing. 

Play on, play on. 

My eltin John I 
Toss the light bail, bestride the stick, — 
(I knew so many cakes would make him sick{) ■ 

With fancies, buoyant as the thistle-down, 
Prompting the face grotesque, and antic brisk. 
With many a lamb-like frisk! 

(He's got the scissora^ snipping at your gown !) 

Thou pretty opening rose! 
(Go to your mothel-, child, and wipe your nose!) 
Balmy and breathing music like the South, — 
(He really brings my heart into my mouth!) 
Fresh as the mom, and brilliant as its star, — 
(1 wish that window had an iron bar!) 
Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove; — 
(I'll tell you what, my love, 
.1 cannot write unless he's sent above.) 

Thomas Hood [1799-1843) 


I wBiTE- He sits beside my chair, 
And scribbtes, (00, in hushed delight, 

He d^ his pen in charmM air: 
What is it be [M^ends to write? 


i^Q Poems of Yojth and Age 

He toils and toils; the paper gives 
No due to aught he thinks. What then? 

His little heart is glad; he lives 
Hie poems that he cannot pen. 

Strange fancies throng that baby brain. 

What grave, sweet looks! What earnest typsl 
He stops — reflects — and now again 

His unrecording pen he plies. 

It seems a satire on myself, — 

These dreamy nothings scrawled in air, . 
, This thought, this work! Oh tricksy elf, 
Wouldst drive thy father to despair? 

Despair! Ah, no; the heart, the mind 
Persists in hoping, — schemes and strives 

That there may linger with our kind 
Some memory of our Kttle Kves. 

Beneath his rock in the early woiid 

Smiling the naked hunter lay, 
And sketched on horn the spear he hurled. 

The urus which he made his prey. 

Like him I strive in hope my rhymes 
May keep my name a little while, — 

O child, who knows how many times 
We two have made the angels smile! 

William CarOon [184s- 


Bright be the skies that cover thee. 

Child of the sunny brow, — 
Bright ag the dream flung over thee 

By all that meets thee now,— 
Thy heart is beating joyously, 

Thy voice is like a bird's, 
And sweetly brealts the melody 

Of thy imperfect words. 


To Laura W , Two Years Old 271 

I know DO fount that guBhes out 
As gladly as thy tiny shout. 

I would that thou niight'st ever be 

As beautiful as now, 
That time mi^t erer leave as free 

Thy yet unwritten brow. 
I would life were all poetry 

To gentle measure set, 
That naught but chastened melody 

Might stain thine eye of jet. 
Nor one discordant note be spoken. 
Till God tbe cunning harp hath broken. 

I would — but deeper things than these 

Wth woman's lot are wove: 
Wrought of intensest sympathies, 

And nerved by purest love; 
By the str<»ig spirit's discipline. 

By the fierce wrong forgiven, 
By all that wrings the heart of sin. 

Is woman won to heaveou 
"Her lot is on thee," lovely child — 
God keep thy spirit undefiled! 

I fear thy gentle lovrfiness. 

Thy witching tone and sir, 
TTiine eye's beseeching earnestness 

May be to thee a snare. 
The silver stare may purely shine. 

The watere taintless flow: 
But they who kneel at woman's shrine 

Breathe on it as they bow. 
Peace may fiing back the gift ^;ajn. 
But the crushed flower wUl leave a stain. 

What shall preserve thee, beautiful child? 

Keep thee as thou art now? 
Bring thee, a spirit undefiled, 

At God's pure throne to bow? 


2 72 Poems of Youth and Age 

The world is but a broken reed, 

And life grows early dim— 
Who shall be near thee in thy need, 

To lead thee up to Him? 
He who himself was "undefiled?" 
Willi Him we trust thee, beautiful childl 

Naihaind Parker WiUti Ueo6-ii6il 


Rose, when I remember you, 
Little lady, scarcely two, 
I am suddenly aware 
Of the angeb in the air. 
All yonr softly gracious ways 
Make an island in my days 
Where my thoughts fly back to be 
Sheltered from too strong a sea. 
All your luminous delight 
Shines before me in the night 
When I grope for sleep and find 
Only shadows in my mind. 

Rose, when I remember you. 
White and glowing, pink and new, 
With so swift a sense of fun 
Althongh life haa just begun; 
With so sure a pride of place 
In your very infant face, 
I should like to make a prayer 
To the angels in the air: 
"If an angel ever brings 
Me a baby in her wings, 
Please be certain that it growa 
Very, very much like Rose," 

Sam TeasdaU [iS 


The Picture of Little T. C. 

TiUELY bloasoDi, IsSant {air, 
Foodliog of a, happy pair, 
Every morn and every night 
Tbcir solid tous delight, 
Sleeping, waiting, still at ease, 
Pleasing, without skill to please; 
Little gossip, blithe and hale, 
Tattling many a broken tale. 
Singing many a tunekas song, 
Lavish of a heedless tongtie; 
Simple maiden, void of art. 
Babbling out the very heart, 
Yet abandoned to thy will, 
Yet imagining no ill, 
Yet loo innocent to blush; 
Like the linnet in the bush 
To the roother-iinnet's note 
Moduling her slender throat; 
Chirping forth thy pretty joys, 
Wanton in the change of toys. 
Like the linnet green, in May 
Flitting to each bloomy spray; 
Wearied then and glad of rest, 
Like the linnet in the neat: — 
This thy present happy lot. 
This, in time will be forgot; 
Other pleasures, other cares. 
Ever-busy Time prepares; 
And thou sbalt in thy daughter see, 
This picture, once, resembled thee. 

Ambrose PliUips li67S?-i74 

See with what simfdictty 
This nymph begins her golden days! ■ 
In the green grass she loves to lie, 
And there with her fair aspect tames 


274 Poems of Youth tuid Age 

The wilder flowers, and gives them names; 
But only witK the roses plays. 

And them does tell 
What color best becomes them, and what unelL 

Who can foretell for what hi^ cause 
This darling of the gods was bom? 
Yet this is she whose chaster laws 
The wanton Love shall one day fear. 
And, under her command sevue. 
See his bow broke, and ensigns torn. 

Happy who can 
Appease this virtuous enemy of maul 

O then let me in time compound 
And parley with those conquering eyes, 
Ere they have tried their force to wound. 
Ere with their glancing wheels they drive 
In triumph over hearts that strive, 
And them that yield but more despise: 

Let me be laid 
Where I may see the glories from some shade. 

Meantime, whilst every verdant thing 
Itself does at thy beauty charm. 
Reform the errors of the Spring; 
Make that the tulips may have share 
Of sweetness, seeing Ihcy are fair. 
And roses of their thorns disarm; 

But most procure 
That violets may a longer age endure. 

But O young beauty of the woods, 

Whom Nature courts with fruits and flowers, 

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds; 

Lest Flora, angry at thy crime 

To kill her infants in their prime, 

Do quickly make the example yours; 

And, ere we see, 
Nip, in the blossom, all our hopes and thee. 

Andrew Mandl [1&11-1678 

p:hy Google 

■ To Hartley Coleri<^e iyj 



O thod! whose fancies from afar are brought: 

Wba of thy words dost make a mode appare], 

And fittest to unutterable thought 

The breeze-like motion and the self-bom carol; 

Thou faiiy voyager! that dost Boat 

Id such dear water, that thy boat 

May rather seem 

To brood on air than on an earthly stream; 

Suspended in a stream as clear as sky. 

Where earth and heaven do make one imagery; 

blessed vision I happy child! 
Thou art so eiquisitely wild, 

1 think of thee with many fears 

For what may be thy lot in future years. 

I thou^t of times when Pain might be thy guest, 

Lord of thy house and hospitality; 

And Grief, uneasy lover! never rest 

But when she sate mthin the touch of thee. 

too industrious folly! 

vain and causeless melanchtJyl 

Nature will either end thee quite; 

Or, lengthening out thy season of delight. 

Preserve for thee, by individual right, 

A young lamb 's heart among the full-grown flocks. 

What hast thou to do with sorrow, 

Or the injuries of to-morrow? 

"nwu art a dew-drop, which the mom brings forth, 

Hi-fitted to sustain unkindly shodis, 

Or to be trailed along the soiling. earth; 

A gem that glitters while it lives. 

And DO forewarning gives; 

But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife. 

Slips in a moment out of life. 

William Wordsworth I17J0-1850I 


276 Poems of Youth, and Age 



Lords, knights, and squires, the numerous band 
TTiat wear the fair Miss Mary's fetters. 

Were summooed by her high cammand 
To show their passions by their letters. 

My pen amongst the rest I took, 
Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read. 

Should dart their kindling fires, and look 
The power they have to be obeyed. 

Nor quality, nor reputation, 

Forbids me yet my flame to tell; 
Dear Five-years-old befriends my passion, 

And I may write till she can ^xJl. 

For, while she makes her silkworms' beds 

With all the tender things 1 swear; 
Whilst all the house my passion reads. 

In papers round her baby's hair; 

She may receive and own my flame; 

For, though the strictest prudes shotild know it, 
She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, 

And I for an unhappy poet. 

Then too, alas! when she shall tear 
The rhymes some younger rival sends, 

She'll give me leave to write, i fear. 
And we shall still continue friends. 

For, as our dilTerent ages move. 

Tis so ordained (would Fate but mend it!), 
That I shall be past making love 

When she begins to comprehend it. 

MaUhew Prior I1664-1711) 


Ex Ore Infantium 

LnTLE Jesus, wast Tliou shy 
Once, and just so small as 1? 
And what did it feel like to be 
Out of Heaven, and just like me? 
Didst Thou sometimes Chink of there, 
And ask where all the aogeb were? 
I aboold think that I would ciy 
For my bouse all made of sky;. 
I would look about the air. 
And wonder where my angeb were; 
And at waking 'twould distress me — 
Not an angel there to dress me! 
Hadst Thou ever any toys, 
Like us little girls and boys? 
And didst Thou play in Heaven with all 
The angels, that were not too tall, 
With stars for marbles? Did the things 
Play Con you see mci through their wings? 
Didst Thou kneel at night to pray, 
And didst Thou join TTiy hands, this way? 
And did they tire sometimes, being young, 
And make the prayer seem very long? 
And dost Thou like it best, that we 
Should join our hands to pray to Thee? ' 
I used to think, before I knew, 
The prayer not said unless we do. 
And did Thy Mother at the night 
Kiss Thee, and fold the clothes in rij^t? 
And didst Thou feel quite good in bed, 
Kissed, and sweet, and Thy prayers said? 
Thou canst not have forgotten all 
That it feels like to be small: 
And Thou know'st I cannot pray 
To Thee ia my father's way — 
When Thou wast so little, say, 
Could'st Thou talk Thy Father's way?— 
So. a little Child, come down 
And hear a child's tongue like Thy own; 


zyi Poems of Youth and Age 

Take mc by the hand and walk, 

And Ibten to my baby-talk. 

To Thy Father show my prayer 

(He wUl look, Thou art so fair), 

And say; "0 Father, I, Thy Son, 

Bring the prayei of a Uttle one." 

And He will smile, that children's tongue 

Has not changed since Thou vast yotu^I 

Frattcis Tlumpa»n [iBsb-ioojI 

Finding Francesca full of tears, I said, 
"Tell me thy trouble." "Oh, my dog is deadl 
Murdered by poison l^no one knows for what! — 
Was ever dog born captable of that?" 
"Child," — I began to say, but checked my thought,— 
"A better dog can easily be bought." 
For no — what animal could him replace? 
Those loving eyes! That fond, confiding face! 
Those dear, dumb touches! Therefore I was dumb. 
From word of mine could any comfort come? 
A bitter sorrow 'tis to lose a brute 
Friend, dog or horse, for grief must then be mate, — 
So many smile to see the rivers shed 
Of tears for one poor, speechless creatioe detKL 
When parents die there's many a word tn Bay — 
Kind words, consoling — one can always pray; 
When children die 'tis natural to tell 
Their mother, "Certainly, with them 'tiawelll" 
But for a dog, 'twas all the life he had. 
Since death is end of dogs, or good or bad. 
This was his world; he ^vas contented here; 
Imagined nothing better, naught more dear. 
Than his young mistress; sought no brighter sphere; 
Having no sin, asked not to be forgiven; 
Ne'er guessed at God nor ever dreamed of heaven. 
Now he has passed away, so much of love 
Goes from our life, without one hope above! 
Wh^ a dog dies there's nothing to be said 
But — kiss me, darluig!— dear old Smiler's dead. 

Thomas WiUiam Fanons \iBig-iStfi\ 


The Child's Heritage 

Oh, there are those, a. sordid clan, 

With pride in gaud and faith in gold. 
Who prize the sacred soul of man 

For what his hands have sold. 

With Eld thy chain of days is one: 
TiK seas are still Homeric seas; 

Thy skies shall glow with Pindar's sun, 
The stars of SocratesI 

Unaged the ancient tide shall surge, 

The old Spring burn along the bou^: 
For thee, the new and old converge 

ss boon of breath; 


Unto thy flesh, the soothing dust; 

Thy soul, the gift of being free: 
The torch my fathers gave in trust, 

Thy father gives to thee! 

Jokn C. Neikardt [1881- 

p:hy Google 

aSo Poems of Youth and Age 


A PUBLIC haunt they found her in: 

She lay asleep, a lovely child; 

The only thing left undefiled 
Where all things else bore taiut o[ sin. 

Her supple outlines fixed in clay 

The universal law suspend, 

And turn Time's chariot back, and blend 
A thousand years with yesterday. 

A sinless touch, austere yet warm, 
Around her girlish figure pressed, 
Caught the sweet imprint of her breast. 

And held her, surely clasped, from harm. 

Truer than work of sculptor's art 
Comes this dear maid of long ago. 
Sheltered from woeful chance, to show 

A spirit's lovely counterpart, 

And bid mistrustful men be sure 
That form shall fate of flesh escape. 
And, quit of earth's corruptions, shape 

Itself, imperishably pure. 

Edward Saitdford ilarlin [1856- 

Tired of play ! Tired of playl 
What hast thou done this live-long day! 
The bird is silent and so is the bee. 
The shadow is cr up steeple and tree; 

The doves have f o the sheltering eaves, 

And the nests an with the drooping leaves; 

Twilight gathers, and day is done, — 
How hast thou ^lent it, restless one? 

Playing! And what hast thou done beside 
To tell thy mother at eventide? 


The Reverie of Poor Susan 281 

What pTMirise of mom is left tmbrokeni' 
What kind word to thy playmate spcdcenP 
Whom hast thou pitied, and whom f<agiv«i? 
How with thy faults has duty striven? 
What hast thou learned by field and hill. 
By greenwood path and by singing rill? 

There will come an eve to a longer day 
That will find thee tired,— but not with playl 
Aad thou wilt learn, as thov leamest new, , 
With wearied hmbs and aching brow, 
And vish the shadows woidd faster creep 
And long to go to thy quiet sleep. 

Well will it be for thee then if thou 
An as tree from sin and shame as now! 
Well for thee if thy tongue can tell 
A tale like this, of a day spent wcH,' 
If thine open hand hath relieved distress, 
And thy pity hath sprung (o wretchedness — 
If thou hast forgiven the sore offence 
And humbled thy heart with penitence; 

If Nature's voices have spoken to thee 

With her holy meanings, eloquently — 

If every creature hath won thy love. 

From the creeping wprm to the brooding dove — 

If never a sad, low-spoken word 

Hath plead with thy human heart unheard — 

Then, when the night steals on, as now 

It will bring relief to thine aching brow, 

And, with joy and peace at the thought of rest, 

Thou wilt sink to sleep on thy mother's breast. 

Nathaniel Parker Willis |iBo5-i86;] 

At il»e conMr of Wood Street, when daylight appears, 
Hangs a Thrush that ain^ loud, it hassling for three years: 
Poor Susan has passed by the q»t, and has heard 
In the sileDce of morning the song of the Bird. 

p:hy Google 

282 Poems of Youth and Age 

'Tis a note of endiantment; what ails her? She sees 
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; 
Bright volumes of vapor through Lothbury glide, 
And a river Sows on through the vale of Gieapstde. 
Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, 
Down which she so often has tri[^>ed with her poil; 
And a single small cottage, a ncsl like a dove's. 
The one only dwelling on earth that she loves. 
She looks, and her heart is in heaven; but they fade, 
The mist and the river, the hill and the ^de: 
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, 
And the colors have all passed away from hex ^esl 

William Wordsworth [1770-1830] 

When the weather's really good 
We go nutting in the wood; 
When it rains we stay at home, 
And then sometimes other some 
Of the neighbors' children come. 
Sometimes we have jam and meat, 
All the things we lilie to eat; 
Sometimes we make do with bread 
And potatoes boiled instead. 
Once when we were put to bed 
We had nowt and mother cried, 
But that was after father died. 

So, sometimes wind and sometimes rain, 
Then the sun comes back again; 
Sometimes rain and sometimes snow, 
Goodness, how we'd like to know 
If things will always alter so. 

F»d Madox HueS" (1873- 


The Cty of the Children 283 


When a' other baixcies are hushed to their hame 
By aunty, or cousin, or frecky grand-dame, 
Wha stands last and lanely, an' naebody carin'7 
Tis the puir doited loonie, — the mitherless baiml 

The mitherieas bairn gangs to his lane i>ed; 
Nane covers his cauld back, or haps his bare head; 
His wee hackit heelies are hard as the aim. 
An' lithdess the lair o' the mitherless bairn. 

Aneath his cauld brow siccan dreams hover there, 
O' hands that wont kindly to kame his dark hair; 
But momin' brings dutches, a' reckless an ' stern. 
That lo'e na the locks o' the mitherless bairni 

Yon sister that sang o'er his saftly rocked bed 
Now rests in the mools where her mammie is laid; 
The father toils sair their wee bannock to ears, 
An' kens na the wrangs o' his mitherless bairn. 

a earth; 

le while, 
ur smile; 
s shaH learn 

iss bairn t 


Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brotheis, 

Ere the sorrow comes with yeats? 
They are leaning their young heads against thdr mothers. 

And t/uH cannot stop their tears. 

p:hy Google 

184 Poems of Youth and Age 

The young lambs are bleating in the meadows, 

The young birds arc chirping in the nest. 
The young fawns arc playing with the shadows, 

The young flowers arc blowing toward the west--— 
But the young, young children, O my brothers. 

They arc weeping bitterly! 
They are weeping in the playtime of the others. 
In the country of the free. 

Do you question the young childten in the sorrow, 

- Why their tears are falling so? 
The old man may weep for his to-monow 

Which is lost in Long Ago; 
The ok! tree is leafless in the forest. 

The old year is ending in the frost, 
The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest. 

The old hope is hardest to be lost: 
But the young, young children, O my brothers, 

Do you ask [hem why they stand 
Weeping sore before the bosoms of their motJieis, ' 
In our happy Fatherland? 

They look up with their pale and sunken faces. 

And their* looks arc sad to see. 
For the man 's hoary anguish draws and presses 

Down the cheeks of infancy; 
"Your old earth," they say, "is very dreary; 
Our young feet," they say, "are very weak; 
Few paces have we taken, yet arc wcarj' — 

Our grave-rest is very far to seek: 
Ask the aged why they weep, and not the children 

For the outside earth is cold, 
And we young ones stand without, in our bewildering, 

And the graves arc for the old. 

"True," say the children, "it may happen 

That wc-die before our time: 
Little Alice died last year — her grave is ghapen 

Like a snowball, in the rime. 
We looked into the pit prepared to take her: 
Was no room for any work in the close dayl 


The Cry of the Children 285 

From the sleep wherein she lieth nooB will vake her, 

Crying, 'Get up, little Mcel it is day.' 
If you listra by that grave, in siu and sbown-. 

With your ear down, little Alice never cries; 
Could we see h« face, be sure we should jiot know her. 

For the smile has time for growing in her eyes: 
And meny go her moments, lulled and stilled in. 

The shroud by the ktrk-chime. 
It is good when it happens, " say the children, 
"That we die before ourtime." 

Alas, alas, the children! they aiu socking 

Death in life, as best to havel 
They are binding up their hearts away fiotn breaking> 1 

With a cerement from the grave. 
Go out, diildien, fr^D the mine and from.thc dty. 

Sing out, childteo, as the little thrushes do; 
Pluck your handfuls of the meadow cowslips pretty ; ' 

Laugh aloud, to fed your fingers let them through! 
But they answer, "Are your cowslips of the meadows 

Like our weeds anear the mine? 

Leave us quiet in the dark of the coal-shadows, , 

From your pleasures fair and fine! 

"For oh," say the children, "we are weary, 

And we cannot run or leap; 
If we cared for ^s>y meadows, it were merely 

To drop down In thetn and sleep. 
Our koees ticmU« sorely in the stooping, 

We fall upon our faces, trying to go; 
And, uhdemeaih our heavy eyelids drooping. 

The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. 
For, all day, we drag otu* burden Liiing, ' 

Through the coal'dark, underground; ' 

Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron 

In the factories, round and round. 

"For, all day, the wheeb are dnming, turning; . 

Thdr wind comes in oar faces, 
T31 our hearts torn, our heads, with pulBes bunung, 

And the walla turn in thdr places: 


286 Poems of Youth and Age 

Turns the sky in die high window blank and reeling, 

Turns the long light that drops adown the w^ 
Turn the Uack flies that crawl along the ceiling: ' ' 

All are turning, all the day, and wa with all. 
And all day, the iron wheels are dionii^; 

And sometimes we could pray, 
'0 ye wheels, (breaking out in a mad moaning) 
'Stop! be silent for to-day!' " 

Ay, be silent! Let them hear each other breathing 

For a moment, mouth to mouth! 
Let them touch each other's hands, in a fresh wreathing 

Of their tender human youtb! 
Let them feel that this cold metallic motion 
Is not all the Ufe God fashions or reveals: 
Let them prove their living souls against the notion 

That they live in you, or under you, wheels! 
Still, all day, the iron wheeb go onward, ! 

Grinding life down from ite mark; 
Ajid the children's souls, which God IsxilUng sunward; 

Spin on blindly in the dark. 

Now tell the poor young children, O my brothere, 

To look up to Him and pray; 
So the blessed One, who blesseth all the others. 

Will bless them another day. 
They answer, " Wbo is God that He should bear u3, . 

While the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred? 
When we sob aloud, the human creatures iiear va- 

Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a womil 
And we hear not (for the wheels in their rcsotulding) 

Strangers speaking at the door: 
Is it likely God, with angela Einging round Him, 

Heai5 our weeping any moreP 

"Two words, indeed, of praying we remember. 

And at midnight's hour of harm, 
'Our Father,' looking iqnvard in the chamber. 

We say softly for a charm. 
We ianw no other words except 'Our Father,' 
And we thiuk thai, in some pause of angeis' song. 


The Cry of the Children 287 

God may pluck them with the sQence sweet to gather. 
And hold both within his right hand which is strong. 
'Our Father!' If He heard us, He would surely 

(For they call Him good and mild) 
Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely, 
' Come and rest with me, my child.' 

"But no!" say the children, weeping faster, 

"He is speechless as a stone; 
And they tell us, of His image is the master 

Who commands us to work on. 
Go to!" say the children, — "Up in Heaven, 

Dark, wheel-like, turning clouds are all we find. 
Do not mock us; grief hss made us unbeUeving: • 

We look up for God, but teara have made us Wind." 
Do you hear the childrep weeping and disproving, 

O my brothers, what ye preach? 
For God's possible is taught by His world's loving, 

And the children doubt of each. 

And well may the children weep before y»ul 

They look up, with their pale and sunken facts, ■! 

And their look is Hread to see. 
For they mind yon of tfadr angds in high places, <. 

With eyes turned on Deity. 
"How long," they say, "bow long, O cruel nation, 

Win you stand, to move the world, on a ebild'S heart,- 
Stifie down with a waiitA hed its palpitation, 
And tiead onward to your throne amid the mart? 


Poems of Youth and Age 

Our blood splashes upward, O gold-heaper, 
And your purple shows your paLh; 

But the diLld's sob in the ^ence curses deeper 
Than the strong man in his wrath!" 

Etimbelh Barrett Broiviiing [1S0&-1S61] 

Why do lie wheels go whining round. 

Mother, mother? 
Ok, mother, are they giants bound, 

A nd wilt they growl forever? 
Yes, fiery giants underground. 

Daughter, little daughter. 
Forever turn the wheels around, 

And rumble-grumble ever. 
Why do I pick the threads alh day. 

Mother, mother? 
While sunshine children are at play? 

And must I work forever? 
Yes, shadow-child; the live-long day, 

Daughter, little daughter. 
Your hands must pick the threads away, 

And feel the sunshine never. 
Why do the birds sing in the sun, 

Mother, mother? 
If all day long I run and run, 

Run with the wheels fornerf 
The birds may sing till day is done. 

Daughter, little daughter, 
But with the wheels your feet must run- 
Run with the wheeb forever. 
Why do I feel so tired each niffit. 

Mother, mother? 
The wheels are always frxssnt; brig^ 

Do they grow sleepy «b9v? 
Oh, baby thing, so soft and white. 

Daughter, little dau^ter. 
The big wheels grind us in their. might. 

And they will grind foKver. 


- MotW Wept 3S9 

And is Ae white tkrea4 never spun. 

Mother, mother? 
And M the HiA»te clolh netsr done, 

For you and me done neoerf 
Oti, yes, our thread will all be ^va, 

Daughter, little dau^ter, 
When we lie down out m the sun, 
■ And work no more forever, 

A nd when wiil come that happy day. 

Mother, molhert 
Oh, shall.vx laugh and sing and play 

Out in the sun forever f 
Nay, shadow-child, we'll rest all day. 

Daughter, little daughter. 
Where green grass grows ajid roses gay. 

There in the sun forever. 

Harriet Monroe [lifxr- 


MOXHEK wept, and father »ghed; . 

With delight aglow 
Cried the lad, "To-morrow," cried, 

"To the pit I go." 

Came his cronies; some to gaze 
Wrapped in wonder; some 

Free with counsel; some with praise: 
Some with envy dumb. 


Poems of Youtfl Md Age 


So nigh is gnndeui to our diiat, 

So near is Cod U> man, 
When Duty whi^^ere low, "Thou must," 

The youth replies, " I can." 

Ralph Waldt EmCTsoH titoj-i88i| 



Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: 

And, when I crossed the wild, 
I chanced to see, at break of day. 

The solitary child. 

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; 

She dwelt oti a wide moor. 
The sweetest thing that ever grew 

Beside a bum»i (toori : 

You yet may spy the fawn at play, 

The hare upon the green; 
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray 

Will never more be seen. 

"To-night will be a stormy night,— 

You to the town must go; 
And take a lantern. Child, to light' 

Your mother through the snow." 

"That, Father, will I gladly do;. 

Tis scarcely afternoon,:— 
The minster-clock has just struck two. 

And yonder is the moon!" 

At this the Father raised his hook, 

And snapped a fagot-brand. 
He plied his work ;' —and Liicy took 

The laatem in her hand. 

p.:hy Google 

, Lucy Gray 

Not blither a the moiuitaiD roe: 

Witb many a wanton stroke 
Her feet disperse the powdery snow. 

That rises up lilte smoke. 

The stoim came on before its time: 

She wandered up and down: 
And many a hill did I^cy climb: 

But never reached the town. 

The wretched parents all that night 

Went shouting Ear and wfde; 
But there was neither sound noi sight 

To serve them for a guide. 

At daybreak on the bill they stood 

That overlooked the moor; 
And thence they saw the bridge of wood, ' 

A furlong from their door. 

They wept, — and, turning homewsurd, cried, 
"In heaven we all shall meet; " 

When in the snow the mother spied 
The print of Lucy's feet. 

Then downwards from the steep hill's edge 
They tracked the footmarks small: 

And through the broken hawthorn -hedge, 
And by the low stone-wali; 

And then an open field they crossed — 
The marks were still the same — 

They tracked them on, nor evpr lost; 
And to the bridge they came. 

They followed from the snowy bank 

Those footmarks, oa^ by one. 
Into the middle of the plank; 

And further there were nonet 

p-hy Google 

29'2" Poems of Youth and Age 

—Yet some maintain that to this day 

She is a living child; 
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray 

Upon the lonesome wild. 

O'er rough and smooth she trips along. 

And never looks behind; 
And sings a solitary song 

That whistles in the wind. 

William Wordsworth I1770-18S0I 



Ous doctor had called in another, I never had seen him 

But he sent a chill to my heart when I saw him <nme in at 

the door, 
Fresh from the surgery-schools of France and of other 

Harsh red hair, big voice, big chest, big merciless hands ! 
Wonderful cures he had done, yes, but Lhcy said too of him 
He was happier using the knife than in tryJog to e^e the 

And that I can well believe, for he looked so coarse and so 

red, , 
I could think he was one of those who would break their 

jests on the dead. 
And mangle the living dog that had loved liini and fawned 

at his knee- 
Drenched with the hellish oorali — that ever such. things 

should be! 

Here was a boy— I am sure that some of our children' would 

But for the voice of love, and the smile, and the comforting 

eye— " ■' 

Here was a boy in the ward, every bone seemed out of its 

place — 
Cau^t in a mill and crushed — it was fdl but a hopeless case: 

p hyGoogle 

In the ChUdrew'a ^Hospitfl .2^ 

AihJ he handled ium gently enough; but his voice and his 

face were not kind, , 

And ^t wa$ bul: a. hopeless casCj he had seen it and made op 

his mind, 
Ail4 If said to me roughly " The lad will need littje mure 9f 

"AJ( the mOK need," I told him, "to s^k the Lord Jep(]s 

in prayer; 
Tbey arc. all His childien here, and I pray for them all ^ 

my own:" 
But b£: tinned to me, "Ay, good woman, caji prayer set,3 

broken bone? " 
ThcD^e muttered halE to himself, but I know that I he^^d 

him say, 
"All very well — but the good Lord Jesus hafi had hif day.". 

Had? has it come? It has only dawned. Il will come by 

O, how could I serve in the wards if tKe hope of the world 

were a he? 
How could i bear with the sights and the loathsome smells 

of disease 
But that He said " Ye do it to me, whea j^e do it to these "? 

So he went. Aiid,we passed to this ward where the youngfr 

children are laid; 
Here i^.the cot of our orphan, our darling, our meefi lit(le 

Empty you see just now! We have lost her who loved her 

Patient of pain, though as quick as a sensitive plant to.the 

Hers, was the prettiest prattle, it often njoyed me. to 

tears. r 

ISita was the gmtefuUest heart I have found in a c^d^ of 

her years— ^ 

, Nay. yf>u, riEiiiember our Emmie; you used to .send hec the 

flowers; , 

Hoff ^ would smile at 'em, play with 'em, -talk to 'em 

hours after hours! 


294 Poems of Youth and Agft 

They that can wander at will where the works of the Lord 

are revealed 
Little guess what joy can be got from a cowslip out of tfce 

Flowers to these " spirits in prison " are aB they can know of 

the spring, 
They freshen and sweeten the wards hlte thS waft of an 

angel's wing; 
And she lay with a flower in one hand and her tWn hands 

crossed on her breast — 
Wan, but as pretty as heart can desire, and wc thought her 

at rest; 
Quietly sleeping— so quiet, our doctor said, "Poor little 

Nurse. I must do it to-morrow: she'll never Kve Umm^ it, 

1 fear." 

I walked with our kindly old doctor as far as the head of the 

Then I returned to the ward; the child didn't seel was there. 

Never since I was nurse, had I been so grieved and so vexed! 
Emmie had heard him. Softly she called from her cot to 

the next, 
"He says I shall never live through it; Annie, what shall 

I do?" 
Annie considered. "If I," said the wise little Annie, "was 

I should ciy to the dear Lord Jesus to help me, for, Emmfe, • 

you see, 
It's all in the picture there: 'Little children should cottie to 

(Meaning the print that you gave us, I find that it alwa^ 

Our children, the dear Lord Jesus with children about HSa 

"Yes, and I will," said Emmie, "but then it I call- to the 

. Lord,, 
How should He know that it's me? such a lot of beds In the 

p.:hy Google 

In the Children's Hospital 49^ 

That was a puzzle for Annie. Again she considered and 

"Emmie, you put out youi anus, and you leave 'em outside 

on the bed — 
The Lord has so much to see to! but, Emmie, you tell it Him 

It's the little girl with her arms lying out, on the counter- 

I had sat three nights by the child — I could not watch her 

for four — 
My brain had begun to feel — I felt I could do it no 

That was my sleeping-night, but I thought that it '^ever 

would pass. 
There was a thunderclap once, and a clatter of hail on the 

And there was a phantom cry that I heard as t tossed 

The motherless bleat of a lamb in the storm and the dark- 
ness without; 
My sleep was broken besides with dreams of the dreadful 

And fears for our delicate Erarote who scarce wo^ escape 

with her life; 
Then in the gray of the morning it seemed she stood by me 

and smiled. 
And the doctor came at his hour, and we went to see the 


He had brought his ghastly tools: we believed her asleep 

Her dear, long, lean, little arms lying out on the counter- 
pane; — 

Say that Hb day is done! Ah, why ^ould we care what they 

The Lord of the children had heard her, and Eitimie had 
passed away. 

A^td DmnysoH [)g&o-i8giI 

p:hy Google 

Q.;)6 Po«m9 of Youth and Age 


"If I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poof ChBd! " 

The dear lips quivered as ihey spake, 

And the tears brake 

From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled. 

Poor Child, poor Child! ' 

I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song. 

It is not true that Love will do no wrong. 

Poor Child! 

And did you think, when you so cried and smiled, 

How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake, 

And of those words your full aveogers make? 

Poor Child, poor Child! 

And now, unless it be 

That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee, 

God, have Thou no mercy upon mc! 

Poor ChQdt 

Coventry Patmort [r(hj-i8Q6| 


My little Son, who looked from thougblful eyes 

And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise, 

Having my law the seventh l,ime disobeyed, 

I struck him, and dismissed 

With hard words and unkisswl, 

— His Mother, who was patient, being dead. 

Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep, 

I visited his bed. 

But found him slumbering deep. 

With darkened eyelids, and their lashes yet 

From his late sobbing wet. 

And I, with moan, 

Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; 

For, on a tabic drawn beside his head. 

He had put, within his reach, 

A box of counters tind a red-veined stone, 

A piece of glass abraded by the beach. 


A Song of Twilight 

ingcd there with careful art, 

An toys 


How weakly underatood 

Thy great cominanded good, 

Then, fatherly not less 

Than I whom Thou hast moalded from the day, 

Thoult leave Thy wrath, and say, 

"1 will be sorry for their childishness." 

Coventry Patmorc [1813-1896] 


Oa, to come home once more, when the dusk is falling, 
To see the nursery lighted and the children's table spread; 

"Mother, mother, mother!" the eager voices calling, 
"The baby was so sleepy that he had to go to bed!" 

Oh, to come home once more, and see the smiling faces, ' 
Dark head, bright head, clustered at the pane; 

Much the years have taken, when the heart its path retraces, 
But until thne is not for me, the image will remain. 

Men and women now they are, standing straight and steady, 
Grave heart, gay heart, fit for life's emprise; 

Shoulder set to shoulder, how should they be but ready! 
The future shines before them with the Ught of their own 

Still each answers to my call; no good has been denied me, 
My burdens have been fitted to the little strength that's 

Beauty, pride and peace have walked by day beside me, 
The evening doses gently in, and how can I repine? 

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298 Poems of Youth and Age 

But ok, to see once more, vihen the early dusk is falling. 
The nursery windrnvs glmomg and the children's table spread; 

"Mother, mother, motherl " the high child-voices calling, 
" He coiAdn'l stay awake for you, he had to go U> bed! " 



The little toy dog is covered with dust. 

But sturdy and stanch he stands; 
And the little toy soldier is red with nist, 

And his musket moulds in his hands. 
Time was when the little toy dog was new. 

And the soldier wa^ passing fair; 
And that was the time when our little Boy Blue 

Kissed them and put them there- 

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said, 

"And don't you make any noisel" 
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed. 

He dreamt of the pretty toys; 
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song 

Awakened our Little Boy Blue — 
Oh! the years are many, the years arc lonfe 

But the little toy friends are true! 

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand, 

Each ia the same old place, 
Awaiting the touch of a Uttle hand. 

The smile of a little face; 
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through 
' In the dust of that little chair, 
What has become of our Little Boy Blue. 
Since he kissed them and put them there. 

EHgate Field (iSfo-iSgg) 


I HAVE A liule kinsman 

Whose earthly summers are but three. 

And yet a voyager is he 

Greater tben Dcake or Fiobisher, 


The piscGivercr 

Than all tbeii peers togetherl 
He is a brave discoverer, 
And, far beyond the tethet 
Of them who seek the frozen Fol^ , 
Has sailed where the noiseless surges nJL 
Ay, be has travelled whither 
A winged pilot steered his bark 
Through the portals of the dark, 
Past hoary Mimir's well and tree, 
Across the unknowiMea. 

Suddenly, in his fair young hour. 
Came one who bore a flower. 
And laid it in his dimpled hand 

With this command; 
"Henceforth thou art a roverl 
Thou must make a voyage far, 
Sail beneath the evening star, . 
And a wondrpus land discover." 
— With his sweet smile innocent 

Our Uttie kinsman went. 

Since that time no word 

From the absent has been heard. , 

Who can tell j 

How he fares, or answer we^ 
What the little one has found 
Since he left us, outward Iwund? . 
Would that he might return! 
Then should we learn 
From the pricking of his chart 
How. the skyey roadways part, . -; 
Hush! does not the baby this way bring. 
To lay befdde this severed cuil. 

Some starry ofiering 
Of chrysotite oi pearl? 

Ah,.aoI. not sol 
We may follow M) his track, 

But hq Fomes not ba^k, . i- 


3bO Poems of Youth and Age 

, And yet I dare aver 

He is a brave discoverer 
Of dimes his elders do not know. 
He has more learning than appears 
On the scroll of twice three thousand years, 
More than in the groves is taUght, 
Or from furthest Indies brought; 
He knows, perchance, how spirits fare, — 
Whai shapes the angels wear. 
What is theiT guise and speech 
In those lands beyond our reach, — 
And his eyes behold 
Things that shall never, never be to mortal hearers told. 
Edmund Clarence Sledimm |i6i3-igo&] 


My little MSdchcn found one day 
A curious something in her play. 
That was riot fruit, nor flower, nor seed; 
It was not anything that grew. 
Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew; 
Had neither legs nor wings, indeed; 
And yet she was not sure, she said. 
Whether it was alive or dead. 

She brought in her tiny hand 
To see if I would understand. 
And wondered when I made reply,' ' 
"You've found a baby butterfly." 
"A butterfly is not like this," 
With doubtful look she answered me. 
So then I told her what would be 
Some day within the chryaalis; 
How, slowly, in the dull brown thing 
Now still as death, a spotted wing,' ' 
And then another, would unfold, 
Till from the empty shell wwdd fly 
A pretty creature, by and by, 
All radiant in blue and gold. 


Mater Dolprosa 

"And will it, tnily?" questioned she- 



To-day the butterfly has flown, — 
She waa not here to see it fly, — 
And sorrowing I wonder why 
The tf^ty. shcU ia^m^ie ^qno. 
Perhaps the secret lies in this; 
I too had found a cbryBalis, ■ r - 
And Death that robbed me of (Wigjit ; 
Was but the radiant creature's flight! 

Mary EmUySr^HtB itSsi-i 


I'd a dream to-night 

As I fell asleep, 
0! the touching Bight 

Makes me still to weep: 
Of my little lad. 
Gone to leave nje sad, , 
Ay, the child I had, 

But was not to ke^.. 

As in heaven high, 
1 my child did seek, 

Tbere in train came by 
Children fair and meek, 

Each in lily white. 

With a lamp alight; 

Each was dear to aght, 
But they did not speak. 

p:hy Google 

'joi poems of Youth and Age 

Then, a little sad, 
Came my child in turn, 

Butthelamphehad, ' ' 
O it did not bum! ' 

He, to clear my doubt, ' 

Said, half-turned about, 

"Your tears put it out; 
Mother, never mourd." 

Wiliutm Barnes tiBoi- 


The aUrs began to pee?" 

Gone iras the bitter day. 
She beavd-the milky ewes v 

Bleat to their kuito astray. 
Her heart cried (or her lamb 

L^ped cold in the churchyard sod. 
She could not think on the happy children 

At play wiih the LUnb of God. 

She heard the caTKng ewes ' 

And the lambs' answer, alas! 
She heard her heart's blood drip in the night 

As the ewes' milk on the grass. 
Her tears that I>urnt like fire ' 

So bitter and slow ran down 
She could not think on the new-washed children 

Playing by Mary's gown. 

Oh who is this comes in 

Over her threshold stone? 
And why is the old dog wild with joy 

Who all day long made moan? 
This fair little radiant ghost, 

Her one little son of seven. 
New 'scaped from the band of merry children 

In the nurseries of Heaven. 


Motherhood ^3 

He was all dad in wbhe 

mthant a speck or EtaJn; 
Wi ciirls bad a ling of U^t 

That rose and fell again. 
"How come with me, myiown motker, 

And ytni'^Mll have great ease, 1 

For you riioll see tbe Ion diildim .. :l 

Oatliered ta Mary's knees." ' I 

Oh, li^itly sprang she up , . .' 

Nor waked bee sleeping noan, ■ 
And hand in band with the little ghost ,. 

ThiDogb tbedarimt^tahejac. .,t 
She b gone swift as a fawn, j , . 

As a bird homes to its nest, 
She has seen them lie, tbf sleepy chUdretl 

Twijtt Maiy's arm and breast, 1 

At morning she came back; 

Her eyes were strange to see. 
She will not fear the long journey, 

However long it be. 
As she goes in and out . . 

She sings unto here^l'; 
For she has seen the mothers' duldoea , 

And knows that it is well. 

Kalharinc Tynan (iSfi;- 


The night throbs on; ,0, Id me pray, dear lad! 
Crush off his name a moment from my mouth. . 
To Thee my eyes would turn, but they go back, 
Back to my arm beside me, where he lay — 
So little. Lord, so Uttlo imd so w«m,! 

I camwt tbink tbat Than badst need of bimrl ' 
He was so little, Lord, be cannot sing, 
He aaaot praise Tbce; all his life badkandid 
Was to hoU fast my kiasa in the ni^. 

p:hy Google 

i 3P4 Poems of Youth and Age 

Give him to me — tie is not happy tbscel 
He had not felt this lite; his lovely eyw 
Just knew me for his mother, and he dift(. 

Hast Thou an angel there to mothec blni? 
I say he loves me best — if he forgets, 
If Thou allow it that my child forgets 
And runs not out to meet me when I came — 

What are my curses to Thee? Thou hast heard 
The curse of' Abel's mother, and since then 
We have not ceased to threaten at Thy (hrone, 
To threat and pray Thee that Thou hold them stiU 
In memory of us. 

See Thou tend him well, 
Thou God of all the mothere. If he lack 
One of his kisses — ah. my heart, my heart, 
Do angels kiss in heaven? Give him ba<k! 

Forgive me, Lord, but I am sick with grief. 
And tired of tears, and cold to comforting. 
Thou art wise, 1 know, and tender, aye, and good, 
Thou hast my child, and he is safe in Thee, 
And I believe — 

Ah, God, my child shall go 
Orphaned among the angels! All alone. 
So little and alonel He knows not Thee, 
He only knows his mother — give him Itack. 

JoHphinc Daskam Baren [lSj6- 


Tte good Lord gave, the Lord has tafcea (n>Di:me, 
Blessed be His name. His holy will bo done. 

Hie tDouniers all have gone, all save I, Jm mother. 
The little ginve Uea lonely in the sun. 

p:hy Google 

The Mother's Prayer_ ,305 

Kay! I would not follow, though they did beseech tne, 
For the angels come now waiting for my dead. 

Heaven's dour is'opeia,'BO my wltiapera soar tfaore, 
miile the gentle angels lift him from his bed. 

Oh Lord, when Thou gavest he was wcai, and helpless, 
Could not rise nor wander from my shielding arm; 

Lovely is he now and strong with four sweet summers, 
laughing, mjiniag, tumbling, hard to keep from harm. 

!f some tender mother, whose babe on earth is living. 
Takes his little hand to guide his stranger feet 

'Hid the countless hosts that cross the floor of heaven, 
Thou wilt not reprove her for Thy pity sweet. 

If upon her b 

All his gold 
Laughing let 1 

Long and li 

\^'ilful are his ways and full of merry misduef ; ' 

If he prove unruly, lay the blame on mc. ' 
Never did 1 chide him for his noise or riot, 

Smiled upon his folly, glad his joy to see. ' 

Each eve shall I come beside hia bed so Unrly; 

"Hush-a-by, my baby," softly shiH 1 sing, 
So. if he be frightened, full of deep and anger, 

The song he loved rfiaJl reach him and aire olmfort bring. 

Lord, if in my praying. Thou shouHst hear me weeping, 

Ever was I wayii-ard, always full ol tears, 
Take no heed of this grief. Sweet the gift Thou gavest 

AH the cherished treasure of those golden years. 

Do not, therefore, hold me to Thy will ungrateful: 
Soon I shall stand upright, smiling, strong, apd brave, 

ftjth a son in heaven the sad earth forgelting, 
But 'tis lonely yet. Lord, by the little grave. 
Oh, 'tis lonely, lonely, by the litUc grave! 

Dorii Sigerson Shorter |iS - 


' 2o6 Poems of Youth and Age 

Da s[H«eogee8COin';butoh, da.' jay 
Eet ees too late! 

He was so cold, my leetla boy, 

He no could wait. 
I no can count how manny week, 
How manny day, dat he ees seeck; 
How manny night I sect an' hold 
Da leetla hand dat was so cold. 
He was so patience, oh, so sweet! 
Eet hurts my throat for thecnk of eet; 
An' all he evra ask ees w'en 
Ees gona com' da spreeng agen. 


Of — w 'at-you-call? — foi^t-me-not. 
So smalla flower, so leetla theeng! 
But steell eet mak' bees hearta seeng: 
"Oh, now, at las', ees com' da spreengi 
Da leetla plant ees glad for know 
Da sun ees com' for mak' eet grow. 
So, too, J am grow warm and strong." 
So Uka dat he seeng hees Mag. 
But, &h! da night com' dowo on' den 
Da wecnter ees sneak back agen, 
An' een da alley al! da night 
Ees fall da snow, so cold, so white, 
An' cover up da leetla pot 
Of — w'at-you-call ?— f oi^t-me-not. 
All night da leetla hand I hold 
Ees grow so cold, so cold, so cold! 
Da spreeng ees com'; but," oh, da joy 

Eet ees too late! 
He was so cold, my leetla boy, 

He no could wait. 

Tkomas Auguititi Daly {1871- 


Epitaph of Dionysia' ' 

I UET a child upon (he Tioor 
A-wadiog 4owB the heather; ,:, 

She put her hand into my own, , , 
We cjxwsed the fields^togethe^.:./ 

I led her to her father's door-^ ' ' 
A cottage midst the clover. , , 

I left her— and the world grew popr 
To rafi, a cbildle^ rover. 

COM t outtg Kue iiS?^ 

Heee doth Dionysia lie: 

She whose little wanton foot, 
Tripping (ah, too carelessly!) 
Touched this tomb, and fellinto 't. 


3o8 Poems of Youth and _Age 

Trip no more shall she, nor fall. 
And her tri^jpii^ were so few! 
Summers only eight in all 
Had the sweet child wandered throu^. 

But, already, h'fe's few 9uns 
Love's strong seeds had ripened wann. 
All her ways were winning ones'; 
All her cunning was to charm. 

And the- fancy, in the flower. 
While the flesh was in the bud. 
Childhood's dawning sex did dower 
With wann gusts of womanhood. 

Oh what joys by hope begun, 
Oh what kisses kissed by thought. 
What love-deeds by fancy done, 
Death to endless dust hath wronght! 

Had the fates been kind as thou. 
Who, till now, was never cold. 
Once Love's aptcst scholar, ;iow 
Thou hadsl been hb teacher bold; 

But, if buried seeds upthrow 

Fruits and flowers; if flower and fruit 

By their nature filly show 

What the seeds are, whence they shoot, 

Dionysia, o'er this tomb, 
Where thy buried beauties be. 
From their dust shall spring and bloom 
Loves and graces like to thee. , 



The night is late, the house is still; 
The angeb of the hour fuliil 
Their tender ministries, and move 
, From couch to couch in cares of love. 


For Charlie's Sake 

to make 

harlie's sake." 
le strain. 
And gives it to the night agoia, 
Fitted with words of lowly praise, 
And patience learned of mournful days, 
And memories of the dead child's ways. 
HJB will be done, His will be doncl 
Viho gave and took away my son, . i 
In "the far land" to shine and sing 
Before the Beautiful, the King, 
Who every day doth Christmas make, 
All starred and belled for Chariie's sake. 
For Charlie's sake I will arise; 
I will anoint me where he lies. 
And change my raiment, and go in 
To the Lord's house, and leave my sin 
Without, and seat me at his board. 
Eat, and be glad, and praise the Lord. 
For wherefore should 1 fast and weep. 
And sullen, moods of mourning keep? 

ith did sign, 
;'3 sake, and mine, 
ader stone 
'Ad I own; 

in, I tin 
that precious hillj 

And, hopeful, wait the latter rains;' 
Content if, after all, the spot 
Yield barely one forget-me-not — 
WTielher or figs or thistles make 
My crop, content for Charlie's sake. 

p:hy Google 

?io Poems of Youth and /Vge 

Nor ever is its stillnesG Gtirred 

By purr of cat, or chirp of bird. 

Or mother's twilt^t legend, told I 

Of Homer'b pie, or Tiddler's gold. 

Or fairy hobbling to the door. 

Red-cloaked and weird, banned and poori 

To bless the good child's gradous eyes, ' 

The good child's wistful charities, 

And crippled changeling's hunch to iiiak6 

Dance on his crutch, for good child's sakt. 

How is it with the child? Tis well; 

Nor would I any miracle 

Might stir my sleeper's tranquil trance, 

Or plague his painless countenance: 

I would not any seer mi^t place 

His staff on my immortal's face. 

Or lip to lip, and eye to eye, 

Charm back his pale mortalily. 

No, Shunamitc! I would not break 

God's stillness. Let them weep who wake. 


'*Are the Children at Home?" 

Eacb day, whea the glow of sunset , 

Fades ia the westero sky, 
And the wee ones, tired of playing, 

Go tnpping Ughtly by, 
I steal away fmn my husband. 

Asleep in his easy-chaii;. 
And watch fvom the open doorway 

Iheir faces fresh and fair. 
Alone in the dear old homestead 

That once was full of life, 
Ringing with girlish laughter. 

Echoing boyish strife, 
We two are waiting together; 

And oft, as the shadows come, 
With tremulous voice he calls me, 

"It is night! are the children home?" 
"Yes, lovel" I answer him gently, 

"They're all home long ago;" — ■ 
And I sing, in my quivering treble) 

A song so soft and low, 
im the old man drops to slumber, 

With his bead upon his hand, 
And I tell to myself the number 

At home in the better land. 
At home, where never a sorrow 

Shall dim their eyes with teanil 
Where the smile of God is on them ' 

Through aH the summer years I 
I know, — ^yet my arms arc empty, 

That fondly folded seven, 
And the mother-heart within me 

Is almost starved for heaven. 

Sometimes, in the dusk of eyemog, 

I only shut my eyes. 
And the children arc all about me, 

A vi^ou from the skies: 

p:hy Google 

JT2 Poems of Youth and Age' 

The babts whose dimploJ fingws 
Lost the way to my lireaat, 

And the beautiful ones, the angt-ls, 
Passed to the world of the blest. 

With never a eloud upon them, 

I see their radiant brows; 
My boys that I gave to freedom, — 

The red sword sealed their vows! 
In a tangled Southern forest, 

Twin brothers bold and brave. 
They fell; and the flag they died /or, 

Thank God! floats over their grave. 

A breath, and the vision is lifted 

Away on wings of light, 
And again wc two arc together. 

All alone in the night. 
They tell me his mind is failing;, 

But I smile at idle fears; 
He is only back with the children, 

In the dear and peaceful yeare. 

And still, as the summer sunset 

Fades away in the west, 
And the wee ones, tired of playing, 

Go trooping home to rest, 
My husband calls from his corner, 

"Say, love, have the children come?" 
And I answer, with eyes uplifted, 

"Yes, dear! they are all at home. " 

ifargarcl Satigsler ,l\S3S- 


We wreathed about our darling 's hcbd 

The morning-glory bright; 
Her little face looked out beneath. 

So full of life and light. 


The Mornihg-Glorjf ' i^\^ 

So lit ao mth a simdK, 

That we onild only eay, j 

"She is iJie nraming-^ory true, 

And hM poor types are titty." 

So always from that happy tiim .. 

We caHedier by their name, ■ 
And very £ttiiig did it seem— 

For, sure as morning came, 
Behind h&t cradle bare she snnled 

To catch the first faint ray, 
As from the trellis smiles the flower 

And opens to the day. 

But not so bcButiiul they tear 

Their airy cups of blue, ■ ■ ' 

As turned her sweet eyes to tht li{^t. 

Brimmed with sleep's tender dew; 
And not so close their tendrils fine 

Round their supports arc thrown. 
As those dear arms whose outstretched plea 

Clasped all hearts to her own. 

We used to think how she had come, 

Even as comes the flower, 
The last and perfect added gift 

■ TocrowTi Love's morning hour; . 
And bow in her was imaged forth , 

The love we could not say, 
As on the little dewdrops round 

Shines back the heart of day. 

We never could have thought, O God, 

That she must wither up,. 
Almost before a day was flown, i 

Lite the morning-glory's cup; 
We newer thought to Bee her droop , '. 

Her fair and noble he»d, 
TIB she lay stretelied befcve our eyes; 

W9ted. and cold, and dmdl 


3^4 Poems of Youth. and Age 

The moming-glMy'B bloasomjag 

Will soon be coming nHind— 
We see (he rows oi heart-shaped kftves 

Upspringing from the ground; 
The tender things the winter killed 

Renew again their birth. 
But the glory of our morning 

Has passed away from earth. 

O Earthl in vain our aching ^ee 

Stretch over thy green plain! 
Too harsh thy dews, too gross thine air 

Her spirit to sustain; 
But up in groves of Paradise 

Full surely we shall see 
Our morning-glory beautiful 

Twine round our dear Lord's knee. 

Maria WhiU LcwU [1811-1855] 


As a twig trembles, which a bird 
Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent, 

So is my memory thrilled and stirred; — 
I only know she' came and went. 

As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven. 
The blue dome's measureless content. 

So my soul held that moment's heaven; — 
I only know she came and went. 

As, at one bound, our swift spring heaps 
The orchards full of bloom and scent, 

So clove her May my wintry sle^M;— 
I only know she came and went. 

An angel stood and met my gaze, 
Through the low doorway of my tent; 

Hie tent is struck, the viaon stays?— 
I only know she came and wont. 


'The First Sn6W-faII I 315 

Oh, when the room grows stewly dimj ' 

And life's last oil is nearly spent; 
One gush of light these eyes will briih', ■ 

Only to think she came and went.- 

James Russell Lmetll [1819-1891] 


The snow had begun in the gloaming, 

And busily all the night 
Had been heaping fidd and highway 
■ With a silence deep and white. 1 

Every pine and fir and hemlock 
Wore ennine too dear for an earl. 

And the poorest twig on the elm-tree 
Was ridged inch deep with pearl. 

From sheds new-roofed with Carrara 
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, 

The stiff rails softened to swan's-down. 
And still fluttered down the snow. 

I stood and watched by the window* 
The noiseless work of the sky, 

And the sudden flurries of snow-birdB, 
Like brown leaves whirling by. 

I thought of a mound in sweet Anbiim 

Where a little headstone stood; 
How the flakes were folding ft gently, 

Again I looked at the snow-fall, ' 
And thought of the leaden sky 

That arched o'er our first great sorrow, 
When that mound Was heaped ao high. 

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gl^ Poems of Youth and Age 

I remembered the gradual patience ^ 
That fell from that cloud like snow, 

Flake by flake, heaUng and hiding 
The Bcar that renewed our woe. 

And again to the child I whispered, 

"The snow that husheth all, 
Darting, the merciful Father 

Alone can make it fall!" 

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; 

And she, kissing back, could not kmijw 
That my kiss was given to her sister, , 

Folded close under deepening snow. 

Jamts RhssM Lm>M (1819-1891] 


A smpLE Child, 

That lightly draws its breath, 

■ And feels its lite in every limb. 

What should it know of death? 

I met a little cottage Girl: 

She was eight years old, she saidi 

Her hair was thick with many a cud 
That clustered round her head. 

She had a rustic, woodland air. 

And she was wildly dad: 
Her eyes were fair, and very fair; 
! — Her beauty made roe glad. , 

"Sisters ajid brothers, little Maid, 

How many may you be?" 
"How many? Seven in all," she said, 

And wondering looked at me. 

"And where are they? I pray you, tell." 
She answered, "Seven are we;. 

And two of us at Conway dwell, 
And two are gone to sea; 


"We Are Seven" ■ j\^' 

"Two of us in the church-yard lie, 

My sister and my brother; 
And, in the Church-yard cottage, I 

Dwell near them With my mother." 

"You say that two at Conway dwell, ' 

And two are gone to sea. 
Yet ye are seven!--! pray you tell, 

Sweet Maid, how this may be." 

Then did the liltte Maid reply, 

"Seven boys and girls are we; 
Two of us in the church-yard lie 

Beneath the church-yard tree." 



"Their graves are green, they may be seen," 

rhc little Maid replied: 
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, 

And they are side by side. 

"My stockings there I often knit, 

My kerchief there I hem; 
And there upon the ground' I sit, 

And s^ a song to them. 

"And often after sunset. Sir, 

When it is light and fair, 
I take raiy little porringer. 

And eat my supper there. 

"TTie first that died was sister Jarie; 

In bed she moaning lay. 
Tin God released her of her pain; ' 

And then she went away. 

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3 1 8 Poems of Youth an4 Age 

"So io the chutch-yard she was laid^ 
And, when the grass was dry, ^ , ; 

Together round her grave we played, 
My brother Joha and I. 

"And the ground was white with snow. 
And 1 could run and slide, , ; 

My brother John was forced to go, , / 

And he lies by her side." 

"How many are you, then," said I, , 

"If they two are in heaven?" , . 

Quick was the little Maid's reply, , 

"0 Masterl we are seven." ' 

"But they are dead; those two are deadi 

Their spirits are in heaven 1" 
'Twas throwing words away; for still 
The little Maid would have her wiU, 

And said, "Nay, we are seven!" 

Waiiam Wordntmrtk Ii7Jo-i8so] 


I CANNOT make him dead! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair; 

Yet when my eyes, now dim 

With tears,! turn to him, 
The vision vanishes, — he is not there I 

I walk my parlor floor. 

And, through the t^n door, ' 

I hear a footfall on the chamber stair; i 

I'm stepping toward the hail 

To give my boy a call; 
And then bethink me that— he is not ^haf^ 

I thread the crowded street; , 

A satchellcd lad I meet, 

p hyGoogle 

My ChiJd 3 

With the same beaming eyes and colored hak; 

And, as he 's running by, 

Follow him with my eye, 
Scarcely believing that— he is not there! 

I know his face is hid 

Under the coffin-lid; 
Oosed are his eyes; cold is his forehead fair; 

My hand that marble fdt; 

O'er it in prayer I knelt; 
Yet nty heart whispers that — be is not therel 

I cannot make him dead! 

When passing by the bed, 
So long watched over with parental care, 

My ^irit and my eye. 

Seek him inquiringly, 
Before the thought comes that— ^he is not th^ret 

When, at the cool gray break 

Of day, from sleep I wake, 
With my first breathing of the morning air 

My soul goes up, with joy, I 

To Him who gave my boy; 
TTien comes the sad thought that — he is not therel , 

For ot there! 

Not therel — ^Where, then, is he? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he uaed to wear. 

The grave, that now doth press 

UpoD that cast-off dress, 
Is but his wardrobe lockediWic is not therel 


3^0 Poems of Yourh and Age 

He lives!— In all the past 

He lives; nor, to the last, 
Of seeing him again will I despair; 

In dreams I sec him now; 

And on his angel brow, 
I see it written, "Thou sbalt see me 'berel" ■ 

Yes, we all live to God! > ^ 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear. 

Than, in the spirit-land. 

Meeting at thy right hand, 
Twill be our heaven to find that— he b there! 

John Picrpont [173^-1866] 


Do yQu remember, my sweet, absent son. 

How in the soft June days forever done 

You loved the heavens so warm and clear and high; 

And when I lifted you. soft came your cry, — 

"Put me 'way up — 'way, 'way up in blue sky"? 

I laughed and said I could not; — set you down, 
Your gray eyes wonder-filled beneath that crown 
Of' bright hair Maddening me as you raced by. 
Another Father now, more strong than I, 
Has borne you voiceless to your deaf blue skyv 

George Parsons Lalhrop I18J1-1898I 


This liule child, so while, so calm. 

Decked for her grave, 
Encountered death without a qualm. 

Are you as brave? 

So small, and armed with naught beside 

Her mother's kiss, 
Alone she stepped, unterrified, 

Into the abyss. 


' Tired Motbers . . i 

"Ab," you explain, "ahe'dld iiat.luiOW — i i ' 

This babe <^ four — 
Just what it signttes to go." . ■ ■ \ 

Do you kBow morer' 

Ktnlon Foster Murray (18 - 


A LTiTLE elbow leam upon your knee, ,]i 

Your tired knee Ibat has so much to beaii, . 
A chBd's dear eyes are looking lovingfy ,..■,• 

Fn»n underaeath a thatch of taii,gkd haft. | 
Perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch 

CH warm, moist fingers, folding yours so tight; 
You do not prize this blessing overmuch, — 

You almost are too tired to pray to-night. 

But it u blessedness! A year ago 

I did not see it as I do to-day,— ' ■ ' 

We are so doll and thankless; and too slow ' 

To catch the sunshine till it slips a?ray, ■ ■ ■ ' 
And now it seems surpassing strange to m« - ' ' 

That, while I wore the badge ofnwtheriiood,' 
\ did not kfes more oft and teHderty 

TTie litlle child that brought me only g«xl; 

And if some night when you sit down to rest, 

You miss this elbow from your ticed knee,— 
This restless, curling head from off your breast,— 

This lisping tongue that chatters corirtantly; 1 
If from youi own the dhnpled hands had eUpfttd; 

And ne'er would nestle in yoo^pahnagwni^ ■ . 
If the white feet into theit grave had trippedy ■ ' 

I could nat blame you for your heartadie. thoil 

I wonder-so that nmrticrs ever fret "I 

Al Btde children dingily ta xhax gown; 

Or that ti>e footprmts, when the days awwet. 
Are ever black enough to make them fcQwa. 1 


312 . Poems of Youth and Age 

If I could find a little muddy boot. 
Or cap, or jacket, on my chambet-door,'— 

If I could kiss a rosy, restless foot, ' . ' 

And hear its patter in my house once mcre,-^ 

If I could mend a broken cart to-day. 

To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky. 
There is no woman in God 's worU could say 

She was more blissfully content than I. 
But ah! the dainty pillow next myown 

Is never rumpled by a shining head; 
My singing birdling from its nest has fiom, 

The litUe boy I used to kiss is dead. 

May RHeyStnitk [it^a- 


Ih the light of the nioan, hy the side of the wafer. 

My seat on the sand and her seat on my Jcnacs, , 
We watch the bright billows, do I and my dauber. 

My sweet little daughter Louise. 
We wonder what city the pathway of glory, 

That broadens away to the UmitlefB west, 
Leads up to — she minds her of some pretty Btory- 

And says: "To the cily that mortals love best." 
Then I say: "It must lead to the far away city, ' 

The beautiful City oE Rest." 

In the light of the moon, by the side of the water. 

Stand two in the shadow of whispering trees, 
And one loves my daughter, my beautiful daughttr, 

My womanly daughter Louise. 
She steps to the boat with a touch of bis fingers. 

And out on the diamonded pathway they move; 
The shallop is lost in the distance, it lingers, i 

It waits, but I know that its coming will prove 
That it went to the walla of the wondftrful dty. 

The magical City of Love. 


Sonnets 3; 

In the light of the moon, by the sMe of tht water, 

I wait for her coming from over the seas; 
I wait but to welcome the dust of my daughter, 

To weep for my daughter Louise. 
The path, as of old, reaching out in its splendor. 

Gleams bright, like a way that an angel has trod; 
I kiss the cold burden its billows surrender, 

Sweet clay to lie under the pitiful sod: 
But she rests, at the end of the path, in the dty 

Whose "builder and maker is God." 

Homer Greene [1853- 

Fiom "Tbe Spanish Gypsy" 

The Wdcld is great: the birds all fly from me, 
The stars aie gakkn fruit upon a tree 
All out of reach: my little sister went. 

And I am lonely. 
The world is great: I tried to mount the hiU 
Above the pines, where the light lies so still, 
But it rose higher: little Lisa went 

And I am lonely. 

The world is great : the wind comes rushing by. 
I wonder where it comes from; sea birds cry 
And hurt my hqpt: my little sister went, 
And 1 am lonely. 

From " MinM(ia BelU " 
Have dark Egyptians stolen Thee aWay, 
CSi Baby, Baby, in whose cot we peer 
As down some empty gulf that opens sheer 
And fathomless, illumined by no ray? 

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324' Poems of Youth and Age 

And wilt thou come, on some far disLaQt dajr. 
With unknown face, and say, ""Behold! I'm here, ; 
The child you lost;" while we in sudden fear. 
Dumb with great doubt, shall fijid no woni to say? 
One darker than dark gipsy holds thee fast; 
One whose strong fingera none has forced apart 
■ Since first they dosed on things that, were too iair; 
Nor shall we sec thee other than thou wa*t, 
But such as thou art printed in the heart, 
In changeless baby loveliness still there. 

Two springs she saw— two radiant Tuscan springs, 

What time the wild red tulips are aflame 

In the new wheat, and wreaths of young vine frame 

The daffodils that every light breeze swio^; 

And the anemones that April brings 

Make purple pools, as if Adonis came 

Just there to die; and Florence scrolls her name 

In every blossom Prim a vera flings. 

Now, when the scented iris, straight and tall, , 

Shall hedge the garden gravel once again 

With pale blue flags, at May's exulting call. 

And when the amber roses, wet with fain, ■ ■ 

Shall tapestry the old gray villa wall, ' 

We, left alone, shall seek one bud in vain. 

Oh, rosy as the lining of a shell 

Were the wee hands that now are white as snows; 

And like pink coral, with their elfln toes. 

The feet that on life's brambles never fell. 

And with its tiny smile, adorable 

The mouth that never knew hfe's bitter sloes; 

And like the incurved petal of a rose 

The little ear, now deaf in Death's strong spell. 

Now, while the se&sons in their order roll. 

And sun and rain pour down from God's ^eat dome. 

And deathless stars shine nightly overhead, 

Near other childreo, with het little doH, 


She waits the WKord that will never come 

To wake the skep^track plajuround of the deftd.. 

Oh, bless the law that veils the Future's face; 
For who. eotild smile into a baby's eyes, 
Or bear the beauty o( the evening skies, 
If he could see what cometfa on apace? 
The ticking of the deatb-watch would replace 
The baby's prattle, for the over-wise; 
The breeze's nrnrmur would become the cries 
Of stormy petrels where the breakers race. 
We live as moves the walker in his sleep, 
Who walks because he sees not the abyss 
His feet are skirting as he goes his way: 
If we could see the morrow from the steep 
Of our security, the soul would miss 
Its footing, and fall headkmg from to-day. 

One day, I mind me, now that she is dead. 

When nothing warned us of the daii decree, 

I crooned, to lull her, in a mioor key, 

Such fancies as fi«t came into ray head. 

I crooned them low, beside her little bed; 

And tibe refrain was somehow " Come with me. 

And we will wander by the purple sea;" 

I crooned it, and — God help me! — feU no dread. 

O Purple Sea, beyond the stress of storms. 

Where never ripple breaks upon the shore 

Of Death's pale Isles of Twilight as they dream, 

Give back, give back, O Sea of Nevermore, 

The frailest of the unsubstantial forms 

That leave the shores tliat are for those that seem! 

What essences from Idumean palm, 

What ambergris, what sacerdotal wine. 

What Arab myrrh, what spikenard, would be thine. 

If I could swathe thy memory in such balmi 

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3l6 Poems of Youth and Age 

Oh, for wrecked gold, from deptts for ever calm, 

To fashion for thy name a fretted shriDc; 

Oh, foT strange gems, still locked in virgin mine. 

To stud the pyx, where thought would bring sweet psalm! 

I have but this small rosary of rhyme, — 

No rubies but heart's drops, no pearls but teais, 

To lay upon the altar of thy name, 

Mimma Bella; — on the shrine that Time 

Makes ever holier for the soul, while years 

Obhterate the rolls of human fame. 

Eugene Lce-HamUlon I1S45-1907] 


Little Sister Rose-Marie, 
Will thy feet as willing-light 
Run through Paradise, 1 wonder. 
As they run the blue skies under. 
Willing feet, so airy-light? 

Little Sister Rose -Marie, 

Will thy voice as bird-note clear 

Lift and ripple over Heaven 

As its mortal sound is given, 

Swift bird-voice, so young and cleat? 

How God will be glad of thee, 
Little Sister Rose-Mariel 

p:hy Google 



Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes. 
In whose orbs a shadow lies 
Like the dusk in evening skies! 

Thou whose lo(^ outline the sun,- 
Golden tresses, wreathed in one. 
As the braided streamlets run! 

Then why pause with indecvdpn. 
When bright angels in thy vision 
Beckon thee to fields Elysian? 

Seeat thou shadows sailing by. 
As the dove, with startled eye, 
Sees the falcon's shadow fiy? 

Hearest thou voices on the shore, 
That our ears perceive no more. 
Deafened by the cataract's roar? 

p:hy Google 

3*8 Poems of Youth and Age 

Oh, thou child of many prayeral 

Life hath quicksands, — Life hath snaresl 

Care and age come unawares! 

Like the swell of some sweet tune. 
Morning rises mto noon, 
May glides onward into June. 

Childhood b the bough, where slumbered 
Birds and blossoms many-nustbered; — 
Age, that bough with snows encumbered. 

Gather, then, each flower that grows. 
When the young heart overflows, 
To embalm that tent of snows. 

Bear a lily in thy hand; 

Gates of brass cannot withstand 

One touch oE that magic wand. 

Bear through sorrow, wrong, and nith, 
In thy heart the dew of youth, 
On thy lips the smile of truth. 

Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal 
Into wounds that carmot heaJ, 
Even as sleep our eyes doth sealj 

And that smile, like sunshine, dart 
Into many a sunless heart 
For s. smile cf God thou art. 

llmry WadsTuoHh Longfeltaui [1S07-1881] 


Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. 

Old Time b still a-flying: 
And thb same flower that smiles to-day 

To-morrow will be dying. 


To Mistress Mat^aret Hussey J29 

The glorious land of heaven, the sun. 

The higher he's a-getting. 
The sooner will his race be run, 

And ueaitc he's to aettiog, 

That age is best which is the first, 
When yOuth and blood are warmer; 

But being spent, the worse, and worst 
Times still succeed the former. 

Then be not coy, but use youE time. 

And whik ye may, ga marry: 
For having lost but once your prime. 

You may for ever tarry. 

Robert Heirkk [1591-1674! 

Merry Margaret 

So maidenly. 
So womanly 
Hec demeaning 
In every thing, 
Far, far passing 
That I can indite. 
Or suffice to write 
Of merry Margaret 
As midsummer flower. 
Gentle as faicoa, 
Or hawk of the tower, 
As patient and still 
And as full of good wiU 
As fair Isaphill, 

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33° Poems of Youth and Age ■ 

Sweet pomander, 
Good Cassaoder; 
Steadfast of thought, 
Well made, well wrought. 
Far may be sou^t. 
Ere that ye can find 
So courteous, so kiixl, 
As merry Margaret, 
This midsummer flower, 
Gentle as faloMi, 
Or hafflc of the towcr. 

John SktUoH in6a?-is7t)\ 


What's she, so late from Penshuist come, 
Moie gorgeous than the mid-day sun. 

That all the world amasesP 
Sure 'tis some angel from above. 
Or 'tis the Cyprian Queen of Love 

Attended by the Graces. 

Or is't not Juno, Heaven's great dame, 
Or Pallas armed, as on she came 

To assbt the Greeks in fight. 
Or Cynthia, that huntress bold. 
Or from old Tithon's bed so cold, 
Aurora chasing night? ' 

No, none of those, yet one that shall 
Compare, perhaps exceed them all, 

For beauty, wit, and birth; 
As good as great, as chaste as fair, 
A brighter nymph none breathes the air, 

Or treads upon the earth. 

"Tis Dorothfe, a maid high-bom, 
And lovely as the blushing mom, 


"O, Saw Ye Bonny l-esiey" 

Of noble Sfdncy's race; 
Ohl could you see into hei mind, 
The beauties there locked-up outshine 

The beauties of her face. 

Fair Dorothea, sent from heaven 
To add more wonders to the seven. 

And glad each eye and ear, 
Ciown of her sex, the Muse's port, 
Tlie glory of our English court. 

The brightness of our sphere. 

To welcome her the Spring breathes forth 
Elysian sweets, March strews the earth 

With violets and posies, 
The sun renews his darting fires, 
April puts on her beat attiies, 

And May her crown of roses. 

Go, happy maid, increase the store 
Of graces bom with you, and more 

Add to their number still; 
So neither all-consuming age. 
Nor envy's blast, nor fortune's rage 

Shall ever work you ill. 

Edmund WalUr [1606-1687} 


SA* ye bonny Lesley 
As she gaed owre the Border? 

She's gane, like Alexander, 
To spread hei conquests farther. 

To see her is to love her, 
And love but her for ever; 

For nattirc made her what she is, 
And ne'er made sic anitherl 

p:hy Google 

;i3'^ Poems of Youth and Age • 

Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, 
Thy subjects we, before thee; 

Thou ait divine, fair Ledey, 
The hearts o' men adore thee. 

The deil he couldna scaith thee, . , 
Or aught that wad bclang thee; 

He'd look into thy bonny face, 
And say, "I canna wrang theel" 

The powers aboon will tent thee; 

Misfortune sha' na steer thee; 
Thou'rt hke themselves sae lovely 

That in they'll ne'er let near thee. 

Return again, fair Lesley, 

Return to Caledonie! 
That we may biag we hae a lass 

There's nane again sae bonny. 

Robert Bums Ins9-t796] 


Sweet stream, that winds through yoader glade. 
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid!— 
Silent and chaste she steals along, 
; Far from the world's gay busy throng: 
With gentle yet prevailing force. 
Intent upon her destined course; 
Graceful and useful all she docs, 
Blessing and West where'er she goes; 
Pure-bosomed as that watery glass, 
And Heaven reflected in her face! 

WiUiam Cmeper Iitji-iSctI 


She stood breast high among the com. 
Clasped by the golden light of mohi. 
Like the sweetheart of the sun, 
Who many a ^wing kiss'had wen. 

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The Solitary Reaper , 333 

On her check an autumn flush, 
Deepiy ripened;— such a blush 
In the midst of brown was born, 
Like red poppies grown with com. 

Round her eyes her tresses fell, 
Which were blackest none could teii. 
But long lashes veiled a light, 
That bad else been all too bright. 

And her hat, with shady brim. 
Made her tressy forehead dim; 
Thus she stood amid the stooks, 
Prabing God with sweetest Icwks: 

Sure, I said, Heaven did not mean,- 
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean; 
Lay thy sheaf adown and come, 
Sharr my harvest and my home. 

Thomas Hood fiyg^-iS^jJ 


Behold her, single in the fieU, 
Yon solitary Hi^and Lass! 
Reaping and singing by herself; 
Stop here, or gently pass! 
Alone she cuts and binds the grain. 
And sings a melancholy strain; 
O listPn! for the Vale profound 
Is overflowing with the sound. 

No Nightingale^d ever chaimt 
More welcome notes to wcaiy bands 
Of Travellers in some shady haunt. 
Among Arabian sandsi 
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard 
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-Wrd, 
Breaking the silence of the seas 
Among the farthest Hebrides. 

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3J4 Poems of Youth and Age 

Will no one t«ll me what she sings? 

Perhaps the plaintive niunbeis flow 

For old, unhappy, far-off things, 

And battles long ago: 

Or is it some more humble lay, 

Familiar matter of to-day? 

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, 

That has been, and may be againl ^ 

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang 
As if her song could have no ending; 
I saw her singing at her work. 
And o'er the sickle bending; — 
I listened, motionless and still; 
And, as I mounted up the hiU, 
The music in my heart I bore. 
Long after it was heard no more. 

William Wardswortk [1770- 


But in sweet pity; and can hear 
Another's praise from envy dear. 

Such (but O lavish Nature! why 
That dark unfathomable eye. 
Where lurks a Spirit that replies 
To stillest mood of softest skies. 


The Three Cottage Girb 3J5 

Yet hints at peace to be o'etthiown, 

IS the {estal band. 

How iAest (if truth may entnt^n 
Coy fancy with a bolder stiain) 
The Helvetian Girl — who daily braves. 
In her hght sltiff, the tossing waves, 
And quits the bosom of the deep 

Her beauty dazzles the thick wood; 

Her rourage animates the flood; 

Her steps the elastic greensward meets 

Returning unreluctant sweets; 

The mountains {as ye heard) rejoice 

Aloud, saluted by her voice! 

Blithe Paragon of Alpine grace, 

Be as thou art — for through thy veins 

The blood of Heroes runs its race! 

And nobly wilt thou biook the chains 

That, for the virtuous, Life prepares; 

The (ettw T^ch the Matron wears; 

The patriot Mother's weight ot anzioua caresl 


'3i^ Poems of Youth and Age 

"Sweet Highland Girl! a very shower 

Of beauty was thy earthly dower," 

When thou didst flit before mine eyes, 

Gay Vision under sullen skies, 

While Hope and Love around thee played, 

Near the rough falls of Inversneyd! 

Have they, who niirsed the blossom, seen 

No breach of promise in the fruit? 

Was joy, in following joy, as keen 

As grief can be in grief's pursuit? 

When youth had Aown did hot>e still Uess 

Thy goings — or the cheorfulness 

Of innocence survive to mitigate distress? 

But from our course why turn— to tread 
A way with shadows overspri;ad; 
Where what we gladlicst would believe 
Is feared as what may most deceive? 
Bright Spirit, not with amaranth crowned 
But heath-bells from thy native ground, 
Time cannot thin thy flowing hair, 
Nor take one ray of light from TTice; 
For in my Fancy thou dost share 
The gift of immortality; 
And there shall bloom, with Thet allied. 
The Votaress by Lugano's side; 
And that intrepid Nymph, on Uri's steep descried! 
Wiiliam K'onUvortk {ujo-iSsol 


The priinrwose in the sheide do bb>w, 

The cvwsl^ in tite zun, 
The thyme upon the down do grow, 
: Tlie cbte where streama do nm; 


Blackmwore Maidens 

An' where do pretty maidens grow 
An' blow, but where the tower 

Do rise aaiong tbe bricken tuns, 
In Blackniwore by the Stour. , 

If you could zee their comely gait. 

An' pretty feiices' smiles, 
A-tiipp^ on so light o' walght. 

An' steppen oil the stiles; 
A-gwala to church, as bells do swing 

An' ring within the tower. 
You'd own the pretty maidens' pIcAce 

Is Blackmwore by the Stour. 

If you vrom Wimbome took your road. 

To Slower or Paladore, 
An' all the farmers' bouscn showed 

Their dau^ters at the door; 
You'd cry to bachelors at hwomc — 

"Here, come: 'ithin an hour 
Youll vind ten maidens to your mind. 

In Blackmwore by the Stour." 

An' if you looked 'ithin their door, 

To zee em in their pleSce, 
A-dodn housework up avore 

Their smilSn mother's feace; 
You'd cry — Why, it a man would wive 

An' thrive, 'ilhout a dower. 
Then let en look en out a wife 

In Blackmwore by the Stour." 

As I upon my road did pass 

A school-house back in May, 
Tliere out upon the beaten grass 

Wer maidens at their play; 
An' as tbe pretty souls did tweil 

An' smile, I cried, "The flower 
O' beauty, then, is still in bud 

In Blackmwore by the Stour." 

■WHtiam Barms [iSoi-i 

p:hy Google 

33,8 Poems of Youth and Age 


I WILL paint her as I see her. 
Ten times have the lihes blown 
Since she looked upon the sun. 

And her face is liiy-c!ear, 

Lily-shaped, and dropped in duty 
To the law of its own beauty. 

Oval cheeks encoloied faintly. 
Which a trail of golden hair 
Keeps from fading off to air; 

And a forehead fair aad saintly, 
Which two Mue eyes underabine, 
Like meek prayers before a shrine. 

Face and figure of a child, — 
Though too calm, you think, aad tender, 
For the childhood you would lend her. 

Yet child-simple, undefiled, 
Frank, obedient, waiting stiU 
On the turnings of your will. , 

iVfoving light, as all young things. 
As young birds, or early wheat 
When the wind blows over it. 

Only, Free from flutterings 
Of loud mirth that scometh measure — 
Taking love for her chief pleasure. 

Choosing pleasures, for the rest, 
Which come softly— just as she, 
When ^e nestles at your knee. 

Quiet talk she liketh best. 
In a bower of gentle looks,^ 
; , ■ W&tering flpwers, or reading books. 

p:hy Google 

And her voice, it muimurs lowly, 
As a silver stieam may nut, 
Which yet feels (you fed) the sun. 

And her smile it seems half holy. 
As if drawn from thoughts moic far 
Tbaa our common jesCings are. 

And if any poet knew her, 
He would sing ol her with falls 
Used in lovely madiigals. 

And if any painter drew her, 
He would paint her unaware 
With a halo round her hair. 

And if reader read the poem. 
He would ^rfiisper— " You have done a 
Consecrated little Una! " 

And a dreamer (did you show him 
That same pcture) would ezdaim, 
'"Us my angel, with a namel" 

And a stranger,— when he sees her 
In the street even— smileth stilly, 
Just as you would at a hly. 

And all voices that address her. 
Soften, sleeken every word. 
As if speaking to a bird. 

And all fancies yearn to cover 
The hard earth, whereon she passes, 
V/itb the thymy-scented grasses. 

And all hearts do pray, "God love her!" 
Ay and always, in good sooth. 
We may all b^ sure He doth. 

ElitabtH BarrtU Brmmitti (1S06-1861I 

p:hy Google 

'34° Poems of Youth and Age 


The nests arc in the hedgerows. 
The lambs are on the grass; 
With laughter sweet as music 
The hours lightfooted pass, 
My darling child of fancy, 
My winsome prattling lass. 

Blue eyes, with long brown lashte, 
Thickets of golden curl, 
Red little lips disclosing 
Twin rows of fairy peari, 
Checks like the apple blossom, ' 
Voice lightsome as the merie. 

A whole Spring's fickle changes. 
In every short-lived dayf 
A passing cloud of Ajn-il, 
A flowery smile of May, 
A thousand quick mutations 
From graver moods to gay. 

Far off, I see the season 

When thy childhood's course is run, 

And thy girlhood opens wider , 

Beneath the growing sun. 

And the rose begins to redden, 

But the violets are done. 

And further still the summer. 
When thy fair tree, fully grown, 
Shall bourgeon, and grow splendid 
With blossoms of its own. 
And the fruit begins to gather, 
But the buttercups are mown. 

If I should see thy autumn. 
Twill not be close at hand. 
But with a spirit vision, 
From some far-distant land. 


Daisy 341 

Or, perhape, I h«ncc may See tfan 
Amongst the angels stand. 

I know not vhat of fortune 
The future holds for thee, 
Nor if skits fair or ck)uded 
Wait thee in days to be. 
But neither joy nor sorrow 
Shall ECver thee from me. 

Dear child, whatever changes . ■ - .• 

Across our lives may pass, 

I shall see thee still for ever, , ' . 

Clearly as in a glass. 

The same sweet child of fancy. 

The same dear vinsome lass. 

Lewis Morrit ltie3-'907] 


Where the thistle lif u a purple crown' , 

Six foot out of the turf, 
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill — 

the breath of the distant surf! — 

The hills look over on the South, 
And southward dreams the sea; 

And, with the sca-brccze liand in hand, 
Came innocence and she. 

Where 'mid the gorse the raspTwrry 
Red for the gatherer springs, 

Two children did wc stray and talk 
Wise, idle, childish things. ' 

She listened with big-lipped surprise. 
Breast-deep 'raid flower and spine; ■ '' 

Her skin was like a grape, whose VriM 
Run snow instead of wine. ' 


342. Poems of Youth and Age 

She knew not those sweet words she qwke. 
Nor knew her own sweet way; 

But there's never a bird, so sweet a song 
Thronged in whose throat that day! 

Oh, there were flowers in Storrington 

On the turf and on the spray; 
But the sweetest flower on Sussex hiUs 

Was the Daisy-flower that day I 

Her beauty smoothed earth's fuirowad facel 
She gave me tokens three: — 
. A look, a word of her winsoifte mouth, 
And a wild raspberry. 

A beny red, a guildess look, 

A still word, — strings of sand! 
And yet they made my wild, wild heart 

Fly down to her little hand. 

For standing artless as the air, 

And candid as the skies, 
She took the berries with her hand. 

And the love with her sweet eyes. 

The fairest things have fleetest end: 
Their scent survives their dose. 

But the rose's scent is bitterness 
To him that loved the rose! 

She looked a little wistfully. 
Then went her sunshine way: — 

The sea's eye had a mist on it. 
And the leaves fell from the day. 

She went her unremembering way, 

She went and left in me 
The pang of all the partings gone, 

And partings yet Co be. 


To Petronilla 13^3 

She left me marveling why my soul 

Was sad that she was glad; 
At all the sadness in the sweet. 

The sweetness in the sad. 
Still, still I seemed to see her, still 1 

Look up "mth soft ispUes, 
And take the benies with her hand, 

And the love with' ha lovely eyes. 
Nothing begins, and nothing ends. 

That is not paid with moan; ' 

For we are bom in others' pain, 

And perish in our own. 

Francis Thompson Fi85o?'igo7) 


t stay 

i great Command 

"Silly boy, as if I knew," 
Fetrouilla said. 
Nay, but I am very sure, 
Since you left my side. 
Something has befallen yon. 
You are fain to bide. 
Homage has been d<aie to you, 
Innocents have died. 

"Silly boy, asif IcaiBd," • 
Petronilla said. 

Htnry Howarlh Baakford |i8So- 


344 Poems of Youth. and Age 


Passing I saw her as she stood beside 
A lonely stream between two barren wolds; 
Her loose vest hung in rudely githcred folds 
On her swart bosom, which in maiden pride 
Pillowed a string of pearls; among her hair 
Twined the light bluebell and the stone-crop gay; 
And not far thence the small encampment: lay, 
Curling its wreathed smc4(e into the ajr. 
She seemed a child oE some sun-favored clime; 
So still, so habited to warmth and rest; 
And in my wayward musings on past time, 
When my thought fill£ with treasured memories 
That image nearest borders on the blest 
Creations of pure art that never dies. 

Benry Alford [1810-1871I 


Come and see her as she stands. 
Crimson roses in her hands; 

And her eyes 
Are as dark as SouUbem night. 
Yet than Southern dawn- more btlght, 
And a soft, Alluring light 

In ihem lies. 

None deny if she beseech 
With that pretty, liquid speech 

Of the South. 
All her consonants arc slurred, 
And the vowels are preferred; 
There's a poem in each word 

From that mouth. 

Even Cupid is her slave; 

Of her arrows, half he gave i 

p:hy Google 

Somebody's Child • 34c 

Her one day 
Id bl merry, playful hour. 
Dowered with these and beauty's dower, 
Strong indeed her magic power, 

So they say. ' 

Venus, not to be outdone 


e there. 

Tender eyes where the shadows sie^. 
Lit firom within by a secret ray, — 

Tender eyes that will shine like stats 
When love and womanhood come this yny: 

Scarlet lips with a story to tell,^ 
Blessed be he who shall find it out, 

Who shall learn the eyes' deep secret well. 
And read the heart with never a doubt. 

Then you will tremble, scarlet lips, 
Then you will crimson, lovdiest cheeks: 

Eyes will brighten and blushes will bum 
When the one true lover bends and speaks. 

But she's oidy a child now, as you see. 
Only a ctrild in her careless grace: 

When Love and Womanhood come this way 
Will anything sadden the flower-like face? 


34-6 Poems of Youth and Age 

Halfwat up the Hemlock valley turqpikfii 

In the bend of Silver Water's arm, 
Where the deer come trooping down at even. 
Drink the cowslip pool, and fear no harm, 

Dwells Emilia, 
Flower of the fields of Camlet Farm. 
Sitting sewing by the western window 

As the too brief mountain sunshine Hies, 

Hast thou seen a slender-shouldered figure 

With a chestnut braid, Minerva-wise, 

Round her temples, 
Shadowing her gray, enchanted eyes? 

When the freshets flood the Silver Water, 
When the swallow flying northward braves 

Sleeting rains that sweep the birchen foothills 
Where the windflowers' pale plantation waves — ■ 

(Fairy gardens 
Springing from the dead leaves in their graves),- 

Falls forgotten, then, Ejnilia's needle; 

Ancient ballads, fleeting through her l»ain. 
Sing the cuckoo and the English primrose. 

Outdoors calling witli a quaint refrain; 
And a rainbow 

Seems to brighten through the gusty rain. 

Forth she goes, in some old dress and faded, 
Fearless of the showery shifting wind; 

Kilted are her skirts to clear ihe mosses, 
And her bright braids in a 'kerchief phmaj. 

Younger sister 
Of the damsel-errant Rosalind. 

While she helps to serve the harvest supper 

In the lantem-lighted village haU, 
Moonlight rises on the burning wwxUand, 

Ec^ioes dwindle from tlie distant Fall. 
Hark, Emilia! 

la her ear the airy voices coll. 


To a Greek Girl 3 

Hidden papers in the dusty garret, 
Where her few and secret poems tie, — 

Thither flies her heart to join her treasure, 
While she serves, with absent-musing eye, 

Mighty taJikards 
Ftxuniiig dder in the glasses high. 

"Would she mingle with her young companioiis! " 

Vainly do her aunts and uncles say; 
Ever, fnxa the village sports and dances, 

Early missed, Emilia slips away. 
Whither vanishedP 

With what unimagined mates to play? 

Did they seek her, wandering by the water, 
They should find her comrades shy and stcatige: 

Queens and princesses, and saints and fairies, 
Dimly moving in a cloud of change: — 

Mariana of the Moated Grange. 

Up this valley to the fair and market 

When young farmers from the southward ride, 
Oft they linger at a sound of chanting 
In the meadows by the turnpike side; 

Long they listen, 
Deep in fancies of a fairy bride. 

Sarah N. Cleghorn [1876- 

With breath of thyme and bees that hum, 


'348 Poems of Youth and Age 

Where'er you pasa,— where'er yoo go, 

I hear the pebbly rillet flow; " '■ 

Where'er you go, — where'er you pass, 

There comes a gladness on the grass; 

You bring blithe airs where'er you tread, — 

Blithe airs that blow Uom down and Bear, 
Vou wake in me a Pan not dead, — 

Not wholly dead!— AutonoS! 

How sweet with you on some green aod 
To wreathe the rustic garden-god; 
How sweet beneath the chestnut's shade 
With you to weave a basket-biaid; 
To watch across the stricken chords 

Your rosy- twinkling fingers flee; 
To woo you in soft woodland woida, 

With woodland pipe, Autonoil 

In vain, — in vainl The years divide: 
Where Thamis rolls a murky tide, 
I sit and fill my painful reams, 
And see you only in my dreams; — 
A vision^ like Alceslis, brought 

From untler-lands of ^Icmory, — 
A dream of Form in days of Thought,— 

A dream, — a dream, Autono6! 

Austin Dobstn [1840- 



She rose from her untroubled sleep, ' 

And put away her soft brown hair, 
And, in a tone as bw and deep 

As love's first whisper, breathed a prayer— 
Her snow-white hands together pressed, 

Her blue eyes sheltered in the lid. 
The folded linen on her breast. 

Just swdKng with the chamiB it hid; 

p:hy Google 

A lift-Ltsson 

-Axd froot bee Idiig and Sowing' drtss' 

Escaped a bare and skndef foot) 
Whose shape upon the earth did press 

Like a new snow-flake, white and "mutie"; 
And tfatxo, from dumber pure aad wann,' 

Like a young spirit ftesh from heaved. 
She bowed her sUght and graceful form, 

And humbly prayed to be forgiven. 

Will our wild errors be forgiven! 

Nalhanid Parker Wiais [1806-1867] 

Ah, be not false, sweet Splendor! 

Be true, be good; 
Be wise as thou art tender; 

Be all that Beauty should. 

Not lightly be thy citadel subdued; 

Not ignobly, not untimely. 
Take praise in solemn mood; 

Take love sublimely. 

Hickard WalsanGUdcr [1S44-1000I 

TheheI little girl, don't cry! 

They have broken your doll, I know; 
And your tea-set blue, 
And your play-house, too. 
Are things of the long ago; 

p:hy Google 

350, Poems of Youth and Age 

But diildish troubles will sood pass by. — 
Tliere! little girl, don't cryl 

Therel little girl, don't cry! 

They have broken your slate, I know; 
And the glad, n-ild ways 
Of your school-girl days 
Are things of the long ago; 
But life and love will soon come by.— 
There! little girl, don't cry! 

There! little girl, don't cry! 

They have broken your heart, I know; 
And the rainbow gleams 
Of your youthful dreams 
Are things of the long ago; 
But Heaven holds all for which you sigh.— 
There! little girl, don't cry! 
, James Wkitcamb Riley [1851-1916! 





Bend now thy body to the common weight: 
(But oh, that vine-clad head,- those limbs of mom! 

Those proud young shoulders, I myself made straightl 
How shall ye wear the yoke that must be worn?) 


£But 31 

Those d 


Nay, then, thou shalt! Resist not— have a care! 

(Yea, I must work my plans who sovereign ait; 
Yet do not tremble sol I cannot bear — 

Thou^ I am God— to see th^ so submit!) 

Margaret Steele Andtrton (18 - 


There are gains for all onr losses, ' 

There are balms for all our pain: 

But when youth; the dream, departs, 

It takes something from our hearts, 

Audit n 

» again. 

We are stronger, and are better, 

Under manhood's sterner reign: 
Slin we feel that something sweet 
Followed youth, witb flying feet. 
And wOl never come again.' 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 

Something beautiful is vani^ied. 

And we sigh for it in vain: 
We behold it everywhere. 
On the earth, and in the air, 
'But it never comes again. 

Rkhard atmy Stoddard [iSi5-:90jI 


Davs of my youth, 

Ve have glided away; 
Hairs of my youth, 

Ye are frosted and gray; 
Eyes of my youth, 

Your keen sight is no more;, , 
Cheeks of my youth, 

Ve are furrowed all o'er; 
Strength of my youth. 

All your vigor is gone; 
Thoughts of my youth, 

Your gay visions are flono. , 

Days of my youth, 

I wish Dot youi recall; 
Hairs of my youth, 

I'm content ye should fall; 
Eyes of my youth, . , 

You much evil have seen; 
Cheeks of my youth. 

Bathed in tears have you been; 
Thoi^hts of my youth, ■ 

You have led me astray; 
Strength of my youth. 

Why lament your decay? 

Days of my age, 

Ye will shortly be past; 
Fains of my age, 

Yet awhile ye can last; 


Ave Atque Vale 

Joys of my age, 

In true wisdom delight; 




rxe Tucker [n 


Fazewell, ray Youth! for now we needs mUBt pah, 
For here the paths divide; 

Here hand from hand must sever, heart from heart, — 
Divergence deep and wide. 

You'll wear no withered roses for my sake, 
Though I go mourning for you all day long. 
Finding no magic more in bower or brake. 
No raelody in song. 

Gray Eld must travel in my company 
To seal this severance more fast and sure. 
A Joyless fellowship, i' faith, 'twill be, 
Yet must we fare together, I and he, 
Till I shall tread the footpath way no more. 

But when a blackbird pipes among the boughs, 
*--0n some dim, iridescent day in spring, 
Then I may dream you are remembering 
Our ancient vows. 

Or when some joy foregone, some fate forsworn, 
Looks through the dark eyes of the violet, 
I may re-crosB the set, forbidden boume, 

I may forget 
Out long, long parting for a little while. 
Dream of the golden splendors of your smile, 

Dream you remember yet. 

SntaBUmd Marriott Watson [rSSj-iQit] 

p:hy Google 

354 Poems of Youth and Age 


Where art thou gone, light -ankled Youth? 

With wing at either shoulder, 
And smile that never left thy mouth 

Until the Hours grew colder: 

Then somewhat seemed to whisper near 

That thou and I must part; 
I doubted it; I felt no tear, 

No weight upon the heart. 

If aught befell it, Love was by 

And rolled it ofi again; 
So, if there ever was a sigh, 

'Twas not a sigh of pain. 

I may not call thee back; but thou 

Retumest when the hand 
Of gentle Sleep waves o'er my brow 

His poppy-crested wand; 

Then smihng eyes bend over mine, 

Then Lps once pressed invite; 
But sleep hath given a silent sign. 

And both, alas! take flight. 

Walter Savage Landor [1775-18641 


Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; 
The days of our youth are the days of oui ^ory; 
And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty 
Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. 

What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? 
Tis but as a dead-flower with May-dew besprinkled; 
Then away with all such from the head that is hoaiyl 
What care I for the wreaths that can wiy give glory? 


Stanzas for Music 355 

Oh Faice! — if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 
Twas less for the take of thy high-sounding phrases. 
Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover, 
She thought that I wu not unworthy to lave her. 

There diiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; 
Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; 
When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, 
I knew it was love, and 1 felt it was glory. 

George Gordon Byron (178^-1834] 


There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, 

ftlien the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull de- 

Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which 
^ules so fast. 

But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be 

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness 
Aredriveno'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess: 
The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain 
The shore to which thur shivered sail shall never stretch 

Then the mortal cnldness of the soul like death itself comes 

It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream Its own; 
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, 
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice 

TIk>u^ wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth dbtract 
the breast. 

Through michtight hours that yield no more their former 
hope of rest; 

lis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreathe, 

All green and wiWIy fresh without, but worn and gray be- 


2^6 Poems of Vouth and Age 

Oh could I feci as 1 have fell,-^r be what I have been, 

Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a vanished 

As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though 

they be, 
So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flovv 


George Garden Byron (1788-1814) 


When, as a lad, at break of day 

I watched the fishers sail away, 
My thoughts, like flocking birds, would follow 
Across the curving sky's blue hollow, 

And on and on — 

Into the Very heart of dawn! 

For long I searched the world! Ah me! 
' I searched the sky, 1 searched the sea. 
With much of useless grief and rueing, 
Those wingM thoughts of mine pursuing — 

So dear were they, 
' So lovely and so far away! 

I seek them still and always will 

Until my laggard heart is still. 
And I am free to follow, follow. 
Across the curving sky's blue hollow. 

Those thoughts too fleet 

For any save the soul's swift (cct! 

Isabel Eccleslont Mackay |i8 - 


Arounb the child bend all the three 
Sweet Graces — Faith, Hope, Charity. 
Around the man bend other faces — 
Pride, Envy, Malice, are his Graces. 

WaUa Satage Landor [i7T5"i86al 


The Quest 357 


When I was a beggarly boy, 

And lived in a cellar damp, 
I had not a friend nor a toy, 

But I had Aladdin's lamp; 
When I could not sleep for the cold, 

I had fire enough in my brain, 
And builded, with roofs of gold, 

My beautiful castles in SpainI 

Since then I have toiled day and night, 

1 have money and power good store. 
But I'd give all my lamps of silver bright 

For the one that is mine no more. 
Take, Fortune, whatever you choose; 

Vou gave, and may snatch again; 
I have nothing 'twould patn me to lose. 

For I own no more castles in Spain ! 

James RusseU Loarell [iSiq-iS 

e of life 
) Spain, 
er mists. 

My little ship through unknown seas 
Sailed many a chongkog day; 

Sometimes the chilling winds came up 
And blew across her way; 

Sometime^ the lain came down and hid 
The shining shores bf Spain, 

The beauty of the silver mists 
And of the iplden grain. 

p:hy Google 

358 Poems of Youth and Age 

But through the rains and through the winds, 

Upon the untried sea, 
My fairy ship sailed on and on, 

With all my dreams and me. 

And now, no more a child, I long 

For that sweei lime a^n. 
When on the far t^rizon bar 

Rose up the shores of Spain, 

lovely land of silver mists, 
O land of golden grain, 

1 look for you with smiles, with tears, 
But look for you in vain! 

BiUn Mackey HutchtMioH CarliiK* I18 -■ 


"My birth -day "—what a different sound 

That word had in my youthful ears! 
And how, each lime the day comes round, 

Less ?nd less white its mark appears! 
When first our scanty years are told. 
It seems like pastime to grow old: 
And, as Vouth counts the shining links 

That Time around him binds so fast. 
Pleased with the task, he little thinks- 

How hard that chain will prese at last. 
Vain was the man, and false as vain, 

Who said— " were he ordained to ran 
His long career of life again, 

He would do all that he had done." 

Ah, 'tis not thus the voice, that dwells 

In sober birth-days, speaks to me; 
Far otherwise — of time it tells 

Lavished unwisely, carelessly; 
Of counsel mocked; of talents, made 

HSply for high and pure de^gCis, 
But oft. like Israel's incense, laid 

Vpon luiholy, earthly shrines; 



Of nursii^ many a wrong desire; 

Of waQdeiing after Love too far. 
And taking every meteor-lire 

That crossed my pathway, for a star. 

All this it tells, and, could I trace 
The imperfect picture o'er again, 

With power to add, retouch, efface 

The lights and shades, the joy and pain. 

How little of the past would stayl 

And comfortless, and stormy round! 

Thomas Motrre [1779 


How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, 
Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! 
My hasting days fly on with full career. 
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. 

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth 
That I to manhood am arrived so near; 
And inward r^>eaess doth much less appear, 
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. 

Yet, be it leas or more, or soon or slow. 
It shall be still in strictest measure even 
To that same lot, however mean or high, 

Toward which Time leads oie, and the will of Heaven: 
All is, if I have grace to use it so, 
As ever in my great Task-master's eye. 

John MUIbh I1&08-1674] 

p:hy Google 

360 Poems of Youth and Age 


Tb time this heart should be unmoved, 

Since others it hath ceased to move: 
Yet, though I cannot be beloved, 
Still let me love! 

My days are in the yellow leai; 

The flowers and fruits ol love are gone; 
The worm, the canker, and the grief 
Ate mine alone I 

The tire that on my bosom preys 

Is lone as some volcanic isle; 
No torch is kindled at its blaze — 
A' funeral pile. 

The hope, the fear, the jealous care, 

The exalted portion of the pain 
And power of love, I cannot share. 
But wear the chain. 

But 'tis not ihus — and 'tis not here — 

Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now. 
Where glory decks the hero's bier. 
Or binds his brow. 

The sword, the banner, and the field, 
Glory and Greece, around me see! 
The Spartan, borne upon his shield, 
Was not more free. 

Awake! (not Greece — she is awake!) 

Awake, my spirit! Think through unkoai 
Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake, 
And then strike home! 

Tread those reviving passions down. 

Unworthy manhood! — unto thee 
Indifferent should the smile or frown 
Of beauty be. 


Growing Gray 361 

If thou regret 'st thy youth, why Hvef 

The land of honorable death 
Is here:— up to the fidd, and give 
Away thy breath I 

Seek out — less often sought than iound — 

A soldier's pave, for thee the best; 
Then look around, and choose thy ground. 
And take thy rest. 

George Gordon Byron Ii788-i8a<] 


"Omar attdi u» OBir." 

A LITTLE more toward the light; — 
Me miserable! Here's one that's white; 

And one that's turning; 
Adieu to song and "salad days;" 
My Muse, let's go at once to Jay's, 

And order mourning. 

We must reform our rhymes, my Dear, — . , 
Renounce the gay for the severe, — 

Be grave, not witty; 
We have, no more, the right to find 
That Pyrrha's hair is neatly twined,— 

That Chloe's pretty. 

Young Love's for us a farce that's played; 
Light canzonet and serenade 

No more may tempt us; 
Gray hairs but ill accord with dreams; 
From aught but sour didactic themes 

Our years exempt us. 

Indeed! you really fancy so? 

You think for one white streak we grow 

At once satiric? 
A fiddlestickl Each hair's a string 
To which our ancient Muse shall sing 

A younger lyric. 

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361 Poems of Youth and Age 

The heart's stiB sound. Shall "cakes and ale" 
Grow rare to youth because we rail 

At schoolboy dishes? 
Perish the thought! Tis ours "to chant 
When neither Time nor Tide can grant 

Belief with wishes. 

Austin Detsom {1840- 


The wisest of the wise 
Listen to pretty lies 

And love to hear 'em told. 
Doubt not that Solomon 
Listened to many a one, — 
Some in his youth, and more when he grew dd. 

I never was among 

The choir of Wisdom's song, 

But pretty lies loved I 
As much as any tting. 
When youth was on the wing, 
And (must it then be told?) when youth had quite gone by. 

Alas! and I have not 
The pleasant hour forgot 

When one pert lady said, 
"O Walter!! am quite 
Bewildered with aftright! 
I see (sit quiet now) a white hair on your head!" 

Another more benign 
Srupped it away from mine, 
And in her own dark hair 
Pretended it was found .* . . 
She leaped, and twirled it round . . . 
Fair as she was, she never was so fair! 

WaUtf SoMie Lander [1T7J-1864I 


Middle Age 363 

Ooa youtt began with tears and si^s. 

With seeking what we could not find; 
Our verses all were threnodies, 

In elegiacs still we whined; 

Our eara were deaf, our eyes were bliuc 
We sought and knew not what we sou^. 

We marvel, now we k>ok behind: 

Though youth "turns spectre-thin and dies," 

To mourn for youth we're 6ot inclined; 
We set oui sovia on salmon ffies, 

We whistle where we once repined. 

Confound the woes of hutnan-kiud! 
By Heaven we're "well deceived," 1 wot; 

Who hum, coDtented m resisted, 
"Life's more amusing than we thought"! 


note meCMta, worn and lined 
Our faces show, but thai is naught; 

Our hearts arc young 'neath wrinkled rind: 
life's more amusing than we thought! 

Andrew Lang [1844-igii) 

When that my days were fewer. 

Some twenty years ago, 
And all that is was newer. 

And time itself seemed slow, 


3.64 Poems of Youth and Age 

With ardor all impassioned. 

I let my hopes fly free, 
And deemed the world was fashioned 

My playing-field to be. 

The cup of joy was filled then 

With Fancy's sparkling wine; 
And all the things I willed then 

Seemed destined to be mine. 
Friends had I then in plenty. 

And every friend was true;. 
Friends always are at twenty. 

And on to twenty-two. 

The men whose hair was sprinkled 

With little flecks of gray, 
Whose faded brows were wrinkled — 

Sure they had had their day. 
And though we bore no malice, 

We knew their hearts were cold, 
For they-had drained their chalice, 

And now were spent and old. 

At thirty, we admitted, 

A man may be alive, 
But slower, feebler wjtted; 

And done at thirty-five. 
I( Fate prolongs his earth-days, 

His joys grow fewer still; 
And after five more birthdays 

He totters down the hill. 

We were the true immortals 

Who held the earth in fee; 
For us were flung the portals 

Of fame and victory. 
The days were bright and breezy, 

And gay our banners -flew, 
And every peak was easy 

To scale at twenty-two. 

p:hy Google 

Middle Age 36 j 

And thus we Gpent oui gay time 

As having much to spendj 
Swift, swift, that pretty playtime 

Flew by and had its end. 
-And lol without a waroiug 

I woke, as others do, 
One fine mid-winter morning, 

A man of forty-two. 

And DOW I see bow vainly 

Is youth with ardor fired; 
How fondly, how insanely 

I formeriy aspired. 
A boy may still detest age, 

But-as for me I know, 
A man has reached his best age 

At forty-two or so. 

For youth it is the season 

Of restlessness and strife; 
Of passion and unreason, 

And ignorance of life. 
Since, though his cheeks have roses, 

No boy can understand 
That everything he knows is 

A graft at second hand. 

But tee have toiled and wandered 

With weary feet and numb; 
Have doubted, sifted, pondered,— 

How else should knowledge come? 
Have seen, too late for heeding, 

Our hopes go out in tears, 
Lost in the dim receding, 

Irrevocable years. 

Yet, though with busy fingers 

No more we wreathe the flowers, 
An airy perfume lingers, 

A bii^tneas still is ours. 


266 Poems of Youth and Age 

And though no rose our cheeks have, 
The sky stiH shines as blue; 

And still the distant peaks have 
The glow of twenty-two. 

Rudolph Ckambers Lektmum {1856*, 

Week I was seventeen I heard 

From each censorious tongue* 
"I'd not do that if I were you; 

You see you're rather young," 

Now that I number forty years, 

I'm quite as often told 
Of this or that I shouldn't do 

Because I'm quite too old. 

O carping world I If there's an age 
Where yoirth and manhood Iwq> 

An equal poise, absl I must 
Have passed it in my sleep. 

Walter Learned [iS4T~'9'5l 

My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbow in the sky: 
So was it when my life began; 
So is it now I am a man; 
So be it when I shall grow old, 

Or let me die! 
The Child is father of the Man; 
And I could wish my days to be 
Bound each to each by natural piety. 

William Wordsverlh (i770-t85o) 


Pass, thon wUd light. 
Wild light on peaks that so 


Equinoctial 367 

Grieve to let go 

Lovely thy tanying, lovely too is night: 

Pass thou away. 

Pass, thou wild heart, 

Wild heart of youth that still 

Hast half a will 

To stay. 
I grow too old a comrade, let us part: 

Pass thou away. 

WiUiam WaUon [1858- 


The sun of life has crossed the line; 

The summer-shine of lengthened li^ 
Faded and failed, till, where I stand, 

Tis equal day and equal night. 

One after cme, as dwindling hours. 

Youth's glowing hopes have dropped away, 
And soon may barely leave the gleam 

That coldly scores a winter's day. 

I am not young; I am not old; 

The flush of mom, the sunset calm, 
Paling and deepening, each to each, 

Meet midway with a solemn charm. 

One aide I see the summer fields. 
Not yet disrobed of all their green; 

While westerly, along the hills, 
Flame the first tints of frosty sheen. 

Ah, middte-point, where cloud and storm 
Make battle-ground of this my life! 

Where, even-matched, the night and day 
Wage round me their September strife 1 

p:hy Google 

368 Poems of Youth and Age 

I bow me to the threatening gale: 
I know when that is overput, 

Among the peaceful harvest daysi 
An Indian Summer comes at last! 

Adeline D. T. Wkiiney (1814-1906] 


From " Aliluiia in Calydon" 

Before the beginning of years, 

There came to the making of man 
Time, with a gift of tears; 

Griel, with a glass that ran; 
Pleasure, with pain for leaven; 

Summer, with flowers that fell; 
Remembrance, fallen from heaven; 

And madness, risen from hell; 
Strength' without hands to smite; 

Love, that endures for a breach; 
Night, the shadow of light; 

And life, the shadow of death. 

And the high gods took in hand 

Fire, and the falling of tears, 
And a measure of sliding sand 

From under the feet of the years; 
And froth and drift of the sea; 

And dust oC the laboring earth; 
Aqd bodies of things to be 

In the houses of death and of birth; 
And wrought with weeping and laughter, 

And fashioned with loathing and love. 
With life before and after, 

And death beneath and above. 
For a day and a ni^t and a mofrow, 

That his strength might endure for a ^>an, 
With travail and heavy sorrow, 

The holy ^irit of man. 


Man J 69 

From the winds ol the north and the south 

They gathered as unto strife; 
They breathed upon his mouth. 

They filled his body with life; 
Eyesight and speech they wrought 

For the veils of the soul therein, 
A time Tor labor and thot^t, 

A time to serve and to sin; 
They gave him light in his ways, 

And love, and a space for deUght, 
And beauty and length of days. 

And night, and sleep in the night. 
His speech is a burning fire; 

With his lips he travaileth; 
In his heart is a blind desire, 

In his eyes foreknowledge of death; 
He weaves, and is clothed with derision - 

Sows, and he shall not reap; 
His lite is a watch or a vision 

Between a sleep and a sleep. 

Algernon Charles Sininhime liSaj-iijogl 


Weighing the steadfastness and state 
Of some mean things which here below reside, 
Where birds, like watchful docks, the noiseless date 

And intercourse of times divide, 
Where bees at night get home and hive, and flowers, 

Early as well as late. 
Rise with the sun, and set in the satne bowers; 

I would, said I, my God would give 
The staidness of these things to man! for these 
To His divine aj^xiintments ever cleave, 

And no new business breaks their peace; 
The birds nor sow nor reap, yet sup and dine. 

The flowers without clothes live, 
Vet Solomoa was never dressed so fine. 

p:hy Google 

lyo Poems of Youth and Age 

Man bath still either toys, or care; 
He hath no root, nor to one place is tied, 
But ever restless and irregular 

About this earth doth run and ride; 
He knows he hath a home, but scarce knows where; 

He says it is so far. 
That he hath quite forgot how to go there. 

He knocks at all doors, strays and roams; 
Nay, hath not so much wit as some stones have, 
Which in the darkest nights point to their homes 

By some hid sense their Maker gave; 
Man is the shuttle, to whose winding quest 

And passage through these looms 
God ordered motion, but ordained no rest. 

Benry Vauthan (1612-16115 


When God at first made Man, 
Having a glass of blessings standing by — 
Let us (said He) pour on him all we can; 
Let the world's riches, which dispersM lie, 

Contract into a span. 

So strength first made a way. 
Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure; 
When almost all was out, God made a stay, 
Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure, 

Rest in the bottom lay. 

For if I should (said He) 
Bestow this jewel also on My creature. 
He would adore My gifts instead of Me, 
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: 

So both should losers be. 

Yet let him keep the rest, 
But keep them with repining restlessness; 
Let him be rich and weary, that at least. 
If goodness lead him not, yet weariness 

May toss him to My breast. ' 

George Uerbert [isw-ifijj] 


Ode on the Intimations of Immortality 371 


Theke was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, 
The earth, and every common sight, 
To me did seem 
Apparelled in celestial light, 
The glory and the freshness of a dream. 
It b not now as it hath been of yore; — 
Turn wheresoe'er I may. 
By night or day, 
The things which I have seen I now can see no more. 

The Rainbow comes and goes. 

And lovely b the Rose; 

The Moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heavens are bare; 

Waters on a starry night 

Are beautiful and fair; 
The sunshine is a glorious birth; 
But yet I know, where'er I go, 
That (here hath passed away a glory from the earth. 

Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song. 
And while the young Lambs bound 

As to the tabor's sound, 
To me alone there came a thought of grief: 
A timely utterance gave that thought reliof, 

And 1 t^ain am strong. 
The Cataracts blow their trumpets from the Steep: 
No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; 
I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng. 
The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep. 

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372 Poems of Youth and Age 

Aod all the earth is gay; 

Land and Sea 
Give themselves up to jollity, 
And with the heart of May 
Doth every Beast keep holiday; — 
Thou Child of Jojs 
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shep 


Ye bless&i Creatures, I have heard the call 

Ve to each other make; I see 
The heavens laugh with you in your jubike; 

My heart is at your festival, 

My head hath its coronal, 

The fulness of your bliss, 1 feel — I feel it all. 

evil day! if I were sullen 
While Earth herself is adorning 

This sweet May morning. 
And the Children are cuUing 

On every side, 
In a thousand valleys far and vide. 
Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm. 
And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm: — 

1 hear, I hear, with j'oy I hear! 

— But there's a Tree, of many, one, 
A single Field which I have looked upon. 
Both of them speak of something (hat is gone: 

The Pansy at my feet 

Doth the same tale repeat: 
Whither is 8ed the visionary gleam? 
Where is it now, the glory and the dream? 

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: 
The Soul that rises with us. our life's Star, 
Hath had elsewhere its setting. 

And cometh from afar: 
Not in entire forgetfulness, 
And not in utter nakedness, 


Ode on the Intimations of Immortality 373 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home: 
Heaven lies about us tn our infancy! 
Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing Boy, 
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, 

He sees it in his joy; 
The Youth, who daily farther from the East 
Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, 

And by the vision spendid 

Shaped by himself with newly-leam&i art; 
A wedding or a festival, 
A mouining or a funeral; 

And this hath now his heart, 
And unto this he frames his song: 
Then will he fit his tongue 
To dialogues of business, love, or strife: 
But it will not be long 


374 Poems of Youth and Age 

Eie this be thrown aside, 

And with new joy and pride 
The little Actor cons another part ; 
Filling from time to time his "hiuaorous stage" 
With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, 
That Life brings with her in her equipage; 

As if his whole v 

Were endless ii 

Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie 

Thy Soul's immensity; 
Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep 
Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, 
That,^eaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep. 
Haunted for ever by the eternal mfnd, — 

Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! 

On whom those truths do rest, 
Which we are toiling all our lives to find, 
In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave: 
Thou, over whom thy Immortality 
Broods like the Day, a master o'er a Slave, 
A Presence which is not to be put by; 
Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might 
Of heaven-bom freedom on thy being's height, 
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke 
The years to bring the inevitable yoke. 
Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? 
Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight. 
And custom lie upon thee with a weight 
Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life! 


joy! that in our embeis 

Is something that doth live, 

That nature yet remembers 

What was so fugitive! 
The thought of our past yean in me doth tfieed 
Perpetual benediction: cot indeed 

p:hy Google 

Ode on the Intimations of Immortality 37J 

For that which is moat worthy to be blest — 

Delist and liberty, the simple creed 

Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, 

With DDw-fledged hope still fluttering in his bieaBt>~ 

Not tor these I raise 

The song of thanks and praise; 
But for those obstinate questionings 

Of sense and outward things, 

Fallings from us, vanishings; 
Blank misgivings of a Creature 
Moving about in worlds not realiwd. 
High mstincts before which our mortal Nature 
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised: 

But for those first affections, 

Those shadowy recollections, 


Then ang, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! 
And let the young Lambs bound 
As to the tabor's sound! 
We in thought will join your throng. 


^7$ J*oems of Youth and Age 

Yc that pipe and ye thai jJfty, 
Yc that through your hearts tO-day 
Feel the gladness of the May! 

What though the radiance which was once so bright 

Be now for ever taken from my sight. 

Though nothing can bring bade the hour 

Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; 
We will grieve not, rather find 
Strength in what remains behind', 
In the primal sympathy 
Which having been must ever be; 
In the soothing thoughts that spring 
Out of human suffering; 
In the faith that looks through dettli, 

In years that bring the philosophic mind. 

And 0, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, 

Forebode not any severing of our loves! 

Yet in ray heart of hearts I feel your might; 

I only have relinquished one delight 

To live beneath your more habitual sway. 

I love the Brooks, which down their channels fret. 

Even more than when I tripped lightly as they: 

The innocent brightness of a new-born Day 

Is lovely yet; 
The Clouds that gather round the setting sun 
Do take a sober coloring from an eye 
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; 
Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 
Thanks to the human heart by which we live. 
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears. 
To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often He loo deep for tears. 

William U'orrfflmtrfA [1770-1830) 



Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung, 
Not she denied him with unholy tongue; 
She, while apostles shrank, could dangers brave. 
Last at the cross and earliest at the grave. 

Eaton Staniiard Barrett (1786-1810] 


There in the fane a beauteous creature stands, 

The first best work of the Creator's hands. 

Whose slender limbs inadequately bear 

A fuU-oibed bosom and a weight of care; 

Whose teeth like pearis, whose lips like cherries, show, 

And tawn-Iike eyes still tremble as they glow. 

From tie Sanskrit ofCalidasa 


Froni " Epksne " 

Still to be neat, still to be dressed 

As you were going (o a feast ; 

Still to be powdered, still perfumed: 

Lady, it is to be presumed, 

Though art's hid causes are not found, 

AH is not sweet, all is not sound. 

Give mc a look, give me a face. 
That makes simplicity a grace; 
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free: 
Such sweet neglect more taketh me 
Than all the adulteries of art; ■ 
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 

a*H Jemon |isj3?-i637l 


378 Poems of Youth and Age 


A SWEET disorder in the dress 

Kindles in clothes a waDtonness: 

A lawn about the shoulders thrown 

Into a fine distraction: 

An erring lace, which here and there 

Enthrals the crimson stomacher; 

A cuff neglectful, and thereby 

Ribbons to flow confusedly: 

A winning wave, deserving note, 

In the tempestuous petticoat: 

A careless shoe>string, in whose tie 

I see a wild civility: 

Do more bewitch me than when art 

Is too precise in every part. 

Robert BerHek (151 


Give place, you ladies, and begone! 

Boast not yourselves at ail! 
For here at hand approacheth one 

Whose face will stain you all. 

The virtue of her lively looks 
Excels the precious stone; 

I wish to have none other books 
To read or look upon. 

In each of her two crystal eyes 

Smileth a naked boy; 
It would you ail in heart suffice 

To see that lamp of joy. 

I think Nature hath lost the mould 
Where she her shape did take; 

Or else I doubt if Nature could 
So fair a creature make. 


A Praise of His Lady 

She may be wdl compared 

Unto the Phcenix kind, 
Whose like was never seen nor heaid, 

That any man can find. 

If all the world were sought so far, 
Who could find such a wight? 

Her beauty twinileth liki; a star 
Within the frosty night. 

Lod goes 

doth the rose 

At Bacchus' feast none shaQ her meet, 

Nor at no wanton play, 
Nor gazing in an open street, 

Nor gadding as a stray. 

The modest mirth that she doth use 
Is mixed with shamefastness; 

All vice she doth wholly refuse, 
And hatcth idleness. 

OLord! it iaa wodd to see 

How virtue can Tepair, 
And deck ba in such hoaesty. 

Whom Nature made u fair. 

Truly she doth so far exceed 

OflT women nowadajfs, 
As doth the gillyflower a weed; 

And more ft thousand ways. 


380 Poems of Youth and Age 

How might I do to get a graft 

Of this unspotted treeP 
For all the rest are plain but chaff. 

Which seem good com to be. 

This gift alone I shall her give: 
Vibea death dolh what he can. 

Her honest fame shall ever live 
Within the mouth of man. 

John Heywood [i«g7?-i58o?] 


I KNOW a thing that's most uncommon; 

(Envy, be silent and attend!) 
I know a reasonable woman, 

Handsome and witty, yet a friend. 

Not warped by passion, awed by rumor^ 
Not grave through pride, nor gay through foUy; 

An equal mixture of good-humor 
And sensible soft melancholy. 

"Has she no faults then (Envy says), Sir?" 

Yes, she has one, I must aver: 
When all the world conspires to praise her, 

The woman's deaf, and does not hear. 

Alexandtr Poft 11688-1744] 


Shf was a phantom of delight 
When first she gleaned xxpoa my sight; 
A lovely apparition, sent 
To be a moment's omantent; 
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; 
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; 
But all things else about her drawn 
From May-time and the cheedd dawn; 
A dancing shape, an image gay. 
To hauntj to atactle. and waylay. 

p:hy Google 

The Solitary-Hearted 381- 

I saw her upon nearer view, 

A Spirit, yet a Woman too! 

Her household motions light and free, 

And steps of virgin libertjr; 

A countenance in whkh did meet 

Sweet records, promises as sweet; 

A creature not too bright or good 

For human nature's daily food; 

For transient sorrows, simple wiJes, 

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 

And now I see with eye serene 

The very pulse of the machine; 

A being breathing thoughtful breath, 

A traveller between life and death; 

The reason firm, the temperate will, ' 

Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; 

A perfect Woman, nobly planned. 

To warn, to comfort, and command; 

And yet a i^ric still, and bright 

With something of angelic light. 

WiUiam Wordruxirth [1770-1850I 


She was a queen of noble Nature's crowning, 

A smile of hers was like an act of graoc; 1 

Sk had no winsome looks, no pretty frowning. 

Like daily beauties of the vulgar race: 

But if she smiled, a light was on her face, 

A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam 

Of peacefid radiance, silvering o'er the stream 

Of human thought with luiabiding glory; 

Not quite a waking truth, not quite a dream, 

A visitation, bright and transitory. 

But she is changed,*— hath felt the touch of sorrow, 
No love hath she. no understanding friend; 
O grief! when Heaven is forced of earth to bomrw ' 
What the poor m'ggard earth has not to lend; 


381 Poems of Youth and Age 

But when the stalk is snapped, the rose must bend. 
The taJJest flower that skyward rears its head 
Grows from the common ground, and there roust shed 
Its delicate petals. Cruel fate, too surely, 
That they should find so base a bridal bed, 
Who lived in virgin pride, so sweet and purely. 

She had a brother, and a tender father. 
And she was loved, but not as others are 
From whom we ask return of love, — but rather 
As one might love a dream; a phantom fair 
Of something exquisitely strange and rare, 
Which all were glad to look on, men and maids, 
Yet no one ciaimed— as oft, in dewy glades, 
The peering primrose, like a sudden gladness. 
Gleams on the soul, yet unregarded fades; — ' 
The joy is ours, but all its own the sadness. 

'Tis vain to say — her worst of grief is only 
The common lot, which all the world have known; 
To her 'tis more, because her heart is lonely, 
And yet she hath no strength to stand atone, — 
Once she had playmates, fancies of her own. 
And she did love them. They are passed away 
As Fairies vanish at the break of day; 
And like a spectre of an age departed, 
Or unsphered Angel wofully astray, 
She glides along— the solitary-hearted. 

Harlity Cfltridie [i7g6-iS4g] 

Women there are on earth, most sweet and high, 

Who lose their own. and walk bereft and lonely. 
Loving that one lost heart until tbey die, 
Loving it only. 

And so they never see beside, thran grow 

Children, whose coming is like breath of fionen; 
Coospled by subtler loves the angels know 
Throu^ i^hildles^ ^14% 

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"She Walks in Beauty" 383 

Good deeds they do: they comfort and they bless 

In duties others put oS till the morrow; 
Their look b balm, their touch is tenderness 
To all in sorrow. 

s the worid smiles at tbem, as 'twere shame, 
This maiden guise, long after youth's departed; 
But in God's Book they bear another name — 
"The faithful-hearted." 

Faithful in life, and faitliful unto death, 

Siidi souls, m sooth, illume with lustre splendid 
That glimpsed, glad land wherein, the Vision saith. 
Earth's wrongs are ended. 

Richard Burton [1S59- 


See walks in beauty, like the ni^t 
Of doudless climes and starry skies; 

And all that's best of dark and bright 
Meet in her aspect and her eyes: 

Thus mellowed to that tender li^t 
Which heaven to gaudy day denies. 

One shade the more, one ray the less, 
Had half impaired the nameless grace 

Which waves in every raven tress 
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 

Where thoughts serenely sweet express 
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. 

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow 

So soft, 90 calm, yet eloquent. 
The smiles that win, the tints that ^ow, 

But tell of days in goodness spent, 
A mind at peace with all below, 

A heart whose love is innocent! 

Gwrgt Gorian Byrm [1TB8--1814I 


3?4 Poems of Youth and Age 


Fnxn " The Angd b the HouM " 

Ah, wasteful woman, she that may 

On her sweet self set her own price, 
Knowing man cannot choose but pay. 

How has she cheapened paradise; 
How given for nought her priceless gift. 

How spoiled the bread, and spilled the wjne, 
Which, spent with due, respective thrift, 

Had made brutes men, and men divine. 


O Queen, awake to thy renown, 

Require what 'tis our wealth to give. 
And comprehend and wear the crown 

Of thy despised prerogative! 
I, who in manhood's name at length 

With glad songs come to abdicate 
The gross regality of strength, 

Must yet in this thy praise abate, 
That, through thine erring humbleness 

And disregard o( thy degree, 
Mainly, has man been so much less 

Than fits his fellowslu'p with thee. 

High thoughts had shaped the toolisli brow. 

The coward haii grasped the hero's sword. 
The vilest had been great, hadst thou. 

Just to thyself, been worth's reward. 
But lofty honors undersold 

Sdler and buyer both disgrace^ 
And favors that make folly bold 

Banish the light from virtue's face. 



And still with favor singled out, 

Marred less than man by mortal fall, 
Her disposition is devout. 

Her countenance angelical: 
The best things that the best believe 

Are in hci face so kindly writ 
The faithless, seeing her, conceive 

Not only heaven, but hope of it; 
No idle thought her instina shrouds, 

But fancy chequers settled sense, 
like alteration of the clouds 

On noonday's asure pennancnce. 

Wrong dares not in her preseice speak, 

Nor spotted thought its taint ^sdose 
Under the protest of a cfaedt 

Outbragging Nature's boast, the rose. 
In mind and manners how discreet; 

How artless in her very art ; 
How candid in discourse; how sWeet 

The conconl ol her lips, and hearti 

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2^6 Poems of Youth and Age 

How simple and how drcumspect; 

How subtle and how fancy-tree; 
Though sacred to her love, how decked 

With unexclusive courtesy; 
How quick in talk to see from far ^ 

The way to vanquish or evade; 
How able her persuasions arc 

To prove, her reasons to persuade. 

How (not to call true instinct's bent 

And woman's very nature, harm). 
How amiable and innocent 

Her pleasure in her power to charm; 
How himibiy careful to attract, 

Though crowned with all the soul deuces, 
Connubial aptitude exact, 

Diversity that never tiresl 


Boon Nature to the wmnan bows; 

She walks in earth's whole ^oty tdad. 
And, chiefest far herself of shows. 


The fa 



The worm its golden woof presents; 

Whatever runs, flies, dives, or delves, 
All doS for her tfaeir ornaniCTits, 

Which suit her better than themselves; 
And all, by this their power to give, 

Proving her right to take, ppnclajm 
Her beauty's clear prerogative 

To profit so by Eden's blame. 



Til] Eve was brou^t to Atkm, he 

A solitary desert trod, 
Though in the great sodety 

Of nature, angels, and of God. 
If one slight column counterweighs 

The ocean, 'tis the Maker's law, 
Who deems obedience better praise 

Than sacrifice of erring awe. 


A woman is a foreign land, 

Of-whicb, though there he settle young, 
A raaa will dc'ct quite understand 

The customs, politics, and tongue. 
The foolish hie them post-haate through, 

See fashions odd and prospects fair. 
Learn of the language, "How d'ye do," 

^d go and brag they have been there. 
The most for leave to trade apply, 

For once, at Empire's seat, her heart. 
Then get what knowledge ear and eye 

Glean chancewise in the lif e-kug matt. 
And certain others, few and fit, 

Attach them to the Court, and see 
The Country's best, its acoent-hit. 

And partly sound its polity. 

CoKulry P»more [tSaj-iSoe] 


I FILL this cup to one made up 

Of loveliness alone, 
A woman, of her gentle sex 

The seeming paragon; 


Poems of Youth and Age 

To whom the better elements 

And kindly stars have given 
A form so fair, that, like the air, 

'Tis lest at earth than heaven. ' 

Her cveiy tone is music's own, 

Like those of morning birds, 
And something more than melody 

Dwells ever in her words; 
The coinage of her heart arc they. 

And from her hps each flows 
As one may see the burdened bee 

Forth issue from the rose. 

Affections are as thoughts to her, 

The measures of her hours; 
Her feelings have the fragrancy, 

The freshness of young flowers; 
And lovely passions, changing oft, 

So till her, she appears 
TTie image of themselves by turns, — 

The idol of past years! 

Of her bright face one glance «ill tncti 

A picture on the brain, 
And of her voice in echoing hearts 

A sound must long remain; 
But memory, such as mine of her, 

So very much endears. 
When death is nigh my latest ugh 

Will not be life's, but hers. 

I fill this cup to one made up 

Of loveliness alone, 
A woman, of her gentle sex 

The seeming paragon — 
Her health! and would on earth there slood 

Some more (rf such a. frune. 
That life might be all poetry. 

And weariness a name. 

Bdaard Cmle Pinkney [iSoj-iSj. 

p:hy Google 

Our Sister ^89 


Her face was very fair to see, 

So luminous with purity:— 

It had no roses, but the hue 

Of liKes lustrous with their dew — 

Her very soul seemed shining throu^I 

Her quiet nature seemed to be 

Tuned to each season's harmony. 

The holy sky bent near to her; 

She saw a spirit in the stir 

Of solemn woods. The rilla that beat 

Their mosses with voluptuous feet, 

Went dripping music through her thought. 

Sweet impulse came to her unsought 

From graceful things, and beauty took 

A sacred meaning in her look. 

In the great Master's steps went she 

With patience and humility. 

The casual gazer could not guess 

Half of her veiled loveliness; 

Yet ah! what precious things lay hid 

Beneath her bosom's snowy lid:"— 

What tenderness and sympathy. 

What beauty of sincerity. 

What fancies chaste, and loves, ihat grew 

In heaven's own sUinless light and dewl 

True woman was she day by day 
In suffering, toil, and victory. 
Her life, made holy and serene 
By faith, was hid with things unseen. 
She knew what they alone can know 
Who live above but dwell below. 

Horalio ^'elsoii Poviers IiSaS-iSoo) 

p-hy Google 

Poems of Youth and Age 


Her thoughts are like a flock of butterflies. 

She has a merry love of little things. 

And a bright flutter ofspecch, whereto she brings 
A threefold elotiucnce— voice, hands and eyesi 
Yet under all a subtle silence lies 

As a bird's heart is hidden by its wings; 

And you shall search through many wandenngs 
The fairyland of her realities. 

She hides herself behind a busy braiii— 
A woman, with a child's laugh in her blood; 
A maid, wearing the shadow of motherhood — 

Wise with the quiet memory of old pain, 

As the soft glamor of remembered rain 
Hallows the gladness of a sunlit wood. 

Brian Hooker [iSSo- 


Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? 
For these red lips, with all their montufal pride, 
Mournful that no new wonder may betide, 
Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, 
And Usna's children died. 

We and the labormg world are passing by: 
Amid men's souls, that waver and give place. 
Like the pale waters in their wintry race, 
Uttder the passing stars, foam of the sky, 
Lives on this lonely face. 

Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode; 
Before you were, or any hearts to beat, 
Weary and kind one lingered by His seat; 
He made the world to be a grassy road 
Before her wandering feet. 

William BuiUr I'eah (1865- 


Dawn of Womanhood ' 


Tbvs vQl I have the woman of my dream. 

Strong must she be and gentle, like a star 
Her soul bum whitely; nor its arrowy beam 

May any cloud of auperstitioa mar: 

True to the earth she is, patient and calm. 
Her tranquil eyes shdl penetrate afai 

Sacred shall be the purport of her daya, 

Yet human; and the passion of the earth 
Shall be for her adornment and her praise. 

She is moet often joyous, with a mirth 
That lings true-tempered holy womanhood. 

Festoons and coronab of the golden jddd. 

A triumph is the labor of her soul. 
Sublime along eternity revealed. 
Lo, everlastingly in her control. 

Under the even measure of her breath, 
like crested waves the onward centuries rdL 

Nor to far heaven her spirit wandereth, 

Not lifteth she her voice in banen pr 

Nor tranbkth at appearances of death. 

prayer, , 


595 Poems of Youth and Age 

She, godlike in her womanhood, wiU (are 

Calm-visaged and heroic to the end. 
The homestead is her moat especi&l care; 

She loves the sacred hearth: she will defend 

Her ([ods from desecration of the vile. 
Fierce, like a wounded tigress, she can Tend 

Wfaatevei may have entered to defile. 

I see her in the evening by the fire. 

And in her eyes, illumined from the pile 

Of blazing logs, a motherly desire 

Glows like the moulded passion of a rose; 
Beautiful is her presence in the bower: 

Her spirit is the spirit of repose. 

Mankind shall hold her motherhood in awe: 
Woman is she indeed, and not of those 

That he with sacramental gold must draw 
Discreetly to his chamber in the Right, 
Or bind to him with fetters of the law. 

He holds her by a ^iritual right. 

With diamond and with pearl he need not sue; 
Nor will she deck herself for his delight: 

Beauty is the adornment of the true. 

She shall possess for ornament and gem 
A flower, the glowworm, or the drop of dew: 

More iimocently fair than all of them. 

It will not even shame her if she make 
A coronal of stars her diadem. 

Though she is but a vision, 1 can take 

CouT&gc from her. 1 feel .her arrowy beam 
Already, for her ^tiiit is awake. 

And passes down the future like a gleam,— 
Thus have I made the woman of my dream. 



She walks— the lady of my delight— 

A shqiherdess of sheep. 
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white; 

She guards them from the sleep. 
She feeds them on the fragrant height, 

And folds them in for sleep. 

She roams matern^ hills and bright, 

Dark valleys safe and deep. 
Into that tender breast at night 

The chastest stars may peep. 
She walks — the lady of my delight — 

A shepherdess of sheep. 

She holds her little thoughts in sight, 

Though gay they run and leap. 
She is so circumspect and right; 

She has her soul to keep. 

She walks — the lady of my delight — 
A shepherdess of sheep. 

Alice Meyndi [i8sj- 


MoiHEK and maid and soldier, bearing best 
Her girl's lithe body under matron gnO', 
And opening new eyes on each new day 

With faith concealed and courage untxtnfessed; 

Jealous to cloak a blessing in a jest, 
Clothe beauty carefully in disarray. 
And love absurdly, that no word bclray 

The worship all her deeds make manifest: 

p-hy Google 

394 Poems of Yoyth" and Age 


The little Dreams of Maidenhood — 

I put them all away 
As tenderly as mother would 

The toys of yesterday, 
When little children grow to men . 

Too over-wise for play. 

The little dreams I put aside — 

I loved them every one, 
And yet since moon-blown buds must Md6 

Before the noon-day sun, 
I close them wistfully away 

And give the key to none. . 

little Dreams of Maidenhood- 
Lie quietly, nor care 

If some day tn an idle mood 
I, searching unaware 

Through some closed comer of my hearty 
Should laugh to find you there, 

Tbeodosia Garruon [1874- 


Trdsty, dusky, vivid, true, 

With eyes of gold and brarable-den', 

Steel true and blade stmight 

The great Artificer made my mate. ' 

Honor,anger, valor, fire, 
A iove that life could never tire. 
Death quench, or evil stir, 
The mighty Master gave to hec; 

Teacher, tender comrade, wife, 
A fellow-farer true through life, 
Heart-whole and soul-free. 
The August Father gave to me. 

Robert Lauis Staxnson {iS5i>-iSmI 


The Voice 

Without, Ihe worid is tired and old. 
But, once within the enchanted door. 

Hie mists of time are badtwaid rolled, 
And creeds and ages are no more; 

But all the human-hearted meet 

In one communion vast and sweet. 

I enter— all is singly fail. 

Nor incense-clouds, nor carven throne; 
But in the fragrant morning air 

A gentle lady sit^ alone; 
My mother — ah! whom should I see 
Wkhin, save ever only thee? 

Digby Wachcorth Dolben [1848-1867] 


As I went down the hill I heard 

The langhter of the countryside; 
For, rain being past, the whole land stirred 

With new emotion, like a bride. ^ 

I scarce had left the grassy lane. 

When something made me catch my breath: 
A woman called, and called again, 

EimbeM Eiaabetkl 


3^6 Poems of Youth and Age 

It was my mother's name. A part 

Of wounded memory sprang to tears. 
And the few violets of my heart 

Shook in the wind of happier years. 
Quicker than magic came the face 

That once was sun and moon for me; 
The garden shawl, the cap of lace, 

The collie's head against her knee. 
Mother, who findest out a way 

To pass the sentinels, and stand 
Behind my chair at close of day, 

To touch me— almost ^TTith thy hand, 
Deep in my breast, how sure, how clear, 

The lamp of love burns on till death! — 
How trembles if I chance to hear 

misabetk! MimhlU 

Norman Gate |i86i- 


I HAVE praised many loved ones in my song, 

And yet I stand 
Before her shrine, to whom all things belong. 

With empty hand. 
Perhaps the ripening future holds a tfnne 

For things unsaid ; 
Not now; men do not celebrate in rhyme 

Their daily bread. 

Tkeraa Ildbiira tiSSS- 


Oft in the after days, when thou and I 
Have fallen from the scope of human view, 
When, both together, under the sweet sky. 
We sleep beneath the daisies and the dew, 
Men will recall thy gracious presence bland. 
Conning the pictured sweetness of thy face; 
Will pore o'er paintings by thy plastic hand. 
And vaunt thy skill and tell thy deeds of grace. 
Oh, may they then, who cruwn thee with tructtays. 
Saying, "What love unto her son she bore!" 


C. L. M. 397 

Make this addition to thy perfect praise, 
"Nor ever yet was mother worshipped more!" 
So shall I live with Thee, and thy dear fame 
Shall link my love unto thine honored name. 

Jiilitm Pane [1817-1870] 

C. L. M. 
In the dark womb where X began. 
My mother's life made me a man. 
ThrougL fdl the months of human birth 
Her beauty fed my common earth. 
I cannot sec, nor breathe, nor stir, 
But through the death of some of her. 

Down in the dariuieas of the grave 
She cannot see the life she gave. 
For all her love, she cannot tell 
Whether I use it ill ot well. 
Nor knock at dusty doors to find 
Her beauty dusty in the mind. 

If tbe grave's gates could be undone. 
She would not know her little son, 
I am so grown. If we ^ould meet. 
She would pass by me in the street, 
Unless my soul's face let her see 
My sense <A what she did for mo. 

What have I done to keep in mind 
My debt to her and womankind? 
What woman's happier life repays 
Her for those months of wretchal days? 
For all my mouthless body leeched 
Ere Birth's releasing hell was reached? 
What have I done, 01 tried, or said 
In thanks to that dear woman dead? 




With such a. sky to le&d him on? 

The dewy ground was dark and cold; 
Behind, all gloomy to beboldj 
And supping nestward seined 
A kind of heavenly destiny: 
I iiked the greeting; 'twas a sound 
Of something without place <» boundi 
And seemed to give me spiritual right 
To travel through that region bright. 

The voice was soft, and she who spake 
Was walking by her native lake: 
The salutation had to me 
The very sound of courtesy; 
Its power was feh; tnd while my^yc 
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky, 
The echo of the voice enwrou^t 
A human sweetness wUh the thon^t 
Of travelling through the world that ky 
Before me in my endless way. 

WiUiatn WordsvorHi 11770-1851^ 


p:hy Google 


(to queen ELIZABETH) 

His golden locks Time hath to silver turned; 

O Time too swift, swiftness never ceaang! 
His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spumed, 

But spumed in vain; youth waneth by increaang: 
Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen; 
Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. 

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees; 

And lovers' sonnets turned to holy psalms, 
A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees. 

And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms: 
But though from court to cottage he depart. 
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart. 

And when he saddest sits in homely cell, 
He '11 teach his swains this carol for a song, — 

"Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well. 
Curst be the souls that think her any wrong." 

Goddess, allow this aged man his right 

To be your beadsman now that wa^ your knight. 

George PttkUss»f-'S9in 


The World's a bubble, and the life of Man 

Less th&n a spant 
In his conception wretched, — from the womb, 

So to the tomb; 
Curst from his cradle, and brou^t up to yeaxs 

With cares and fears. 
Who then to frail mortality shall trust, 
But limns on water, or but writes in dust. 

Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opp;;es3^, 

What life is best? 
Courts are but only superficial schools 

To. dandle fools; 

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4Qp Poems of Youth and Age 

The rural parts are turned into a den 

Of savage men; 
And where's a city from foul vice so free. 
But may be teemed the worst of all the threeP 

afflict the husband's bed, 

IS his head: 

single, take it for a curse, 

.hings worse: 

'e children; those that have them moan 

1 them gone: 
What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, 
But single thraldom, or a double strife? 

Our own aiTections still at home to please 

Is a disease; 
To cross the seas to any foreign soil, 

Peril and toil; ' 

Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, ^ 

. We are worse in peace: 
^What then remains, but that wc still should cry . 
For being born, or, being born, to die? 

Francis Bacon I1561-1S26I 


From ■■ Tvrelllli Nlglit " 

When that I was and a little tiiiy boy, 
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

A foolish thing was but a toy, 
For the rain it raineth every day. 

Bui when I came to man's estate, 
With hey, ho. (he wind and the rain, 

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate. 
For the rain it raineth every day. 

But when I came, alas! to wive, 

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

By swaggering could I never thrive, 
For the rain it raineth eveiy day. 

p:hy Google 

A Lament 401 

But when I came unto my beds, 

With bey, ho, the wind and the rain, 
With toss-pots still had drunken heads; 

For the rain it raincth every day. . 

A great while ago the world beguni 
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain. 

But that 's all one, our play is done, 
And we^ll strive to please you every day. 

Wiltiitm Shakesftare [1564-16161 

When we for age could neither read nor write, 
The subject made us able to indite; 
The soul, with nobler resolutioos decked, 
lie body stooping does herself erect. 
No mortal parts are requisite to raise 
Her that, unbodied, can hef Mfli;ier praise. 

The seas are qwdt wheo the winds give o'er; 
So calm are we when passions ace no more. 
For then we know how vain it was to boast 
Oi fleeting thtn^ so certain lo be lost. 
Clouds of aflecti6n from our younger oyea 
Conceal that emptiness which age descries. 

TTie soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, 

Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made: 

Stronger by weakness, wiser nu:n become 

.\s they draw near to their eternal home. 

Leavinig the old, both worlds at once they view 

That stand upon the threshold of the new. 

Edmund Waller [iCo6'i6g7| 



My prime of youth is bnt a frost of cares; ■ 
My feast of joy is but a dish of parn; 

My crop of com ia but a field of lares; 
And all my good is but vain hope of gaio- 


402 Poems of Youth and Age 

The day is fled, and yet I saw no aun; 
And jiow I live, and now my life is dond 

The spring is past, and yet it is not spnug; 

The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves be green; 
My youth ia gone, and yet I am but Toun^; 

I saw the world, and yet I iTas not seen; 
My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun; 
And now I live, and now my life is done4 

I sought my death, and found it in roy womb; 

I looked for life, and saw it was a shade; 
I trod the earth, and knew it was my tomb; 

And now I die, and now I am but made; 
The glass h full, and now my glass is run; 
And now I live, and now my life is donel 

Ckiiioek Tkkbofitt iis5if-iSi6] 

In the down-hill of life, when I find I'm dedining. 

May my fate no less fortunate be 
Than a snug dbow-chair will afford for ledining, 

And a cot that o'»loohs the wide sea; 
With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn. 

While I carol away idle sorrow, 
And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn. 

Look forward with hope for Tomorrow. 

With a porch at my door, both for ahdter and shade too, 

As the sun^ine or rain may prevail. 
And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too. 

With a bam for the use of the flail: 
A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, 

And a purse when a friend wants to borrow; 
I'll envy no Nabob his riches or fame, 

Nor what honors may wait him Tomorrow. 

From the bleak northern blast may my cot be <:ompletely 

Secured by a neighboring hill; 
And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly 

By the. sound of a naurmuring rill. 


Youth and Age 40, 

And while p«ux and jdMity I find &t my board. 
With a faeart free from sickness and sorrow, 

With my. friends may I share wha,t Today may aSord, 
And let them ^read the table Tomonow. 

I^ong wandering in the winding glade; 
And now the torch of truth is. found, 

It only shows us where we strayed; 
By long experience taught, we know — 

Can rightly judge of friends and foes; 
Can all the worth of these allow. 

And all the faults discern in those. 
Now, 'tis our boast that we can quell 

The wildest pas^ons in their rage, 
Can their deKnialve force repel, 

And their impetuous wrath assuage.'— 
Ah, Virtuel dost thou arm when now 

This bold rebellious race an fled? 
When all these tyrants rest, and thou 

Art warring with the mighty dead? 

George Crabbe (1754- 

Veksx, a breeze 'mid blossoms str&ying, 

Where Hope clung feeding like a bee, — 
Both were minel Life went a-maying '■ 
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy 

When I was young! 


, 404 Poems of Youth and Age 

When I «as young? — ^.\h, woful Wben! 

Ah, for the change 'twist Now and Thent 
This breathing house not built with hands, 
This body that does mc grievous wrong, 

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like; 
Friendship is a sheltering tree; 
Oh! the joys that came down shower-like. 
Of Friend^ip, Love, and Liberty 

Ere I was old! 
£reIwasold? Ah, woful Ere, 
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here! 

Youth! for years so many and sweet, 
'Tis known that Thou and I were one. ' 
I'll think it but a fond conceit — 

It cannot be that Thou art gone! 
Thy vesper-bell haih not yet toUedf— ■ 
And thou wert aye a masker bold! 
What strange diaguiae hasi now put on 
To make believe that, ihou art goiieP 

1 see these lodes in silvery slips. 
This drooping gait, this altered size: 
But Springtide blossoms on thy lips. 
And tears take sunshine from LhineAycs! 
Life is hut thought: so ihink I will 
That Youth and I are house-mates still. 

Dewdiops are the gems of morning. 
But the tears of mournful eve! 
Where do hope is, life's a warning 
That only serves to make us grieve 

When we are oldi 

p:hy Google 

The Old Man's Comforta 465- 

That only serves to make us grieve 
Wilh oft and tedious taking-leave, 



"Yon are old, Father William," the young man cried; 

"The few locks which are left you are gray; 
You are hale. Father William, — a hearty old man: 

Now tell me the reason, I pray." 

"In the days of my youth " Father William replied, 
"I remembered that youth would fly fast, 

And abused not my heaJth and my vigor at first, 
That I never might need tbem at last." 

"You arc old. Father William," the young man cried, 

"And pleasures with youth paes away; 
And yet you lament not the days that are gone: 

Now tell me the reason, I pray." 

" In the days of my youth," Father William replied, 
"I remembered that youth could not last; 

I thought of the future, whatever I did. 
That I never might grieve for the past." 

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, 

"And life must be hastening away; 
You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death: 

Now tell me the reason, I pray." 

"I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied; 

"Let the cause thy attention engage; 
In the days of my youth, I remembered my God, 

.^nd He hath not forgotten mv oge." 

airrt 5#atfa? (1TJ4-1843I 

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4o6 Poems of Youth antl Age 


I was indocile at an age 

When better boys were taught, 
But thou at length hast made me sage, 

If I am sage in aught. 

Little I know from other men, 

Too little they from me, 
But thou hast pointed well the pen 

That writes these lines to thee. 

Thanks for expdJing Fear and Hope, 

One vile, the other vain; 
One's scourge, the other's telescope, 

I shall not see again: 

Rather what lies before my feet 

My notice shall engage. — 
He who hath braved Youth's dizzy heat 

Dreads not the frost of Age. 

Waiter Savtie Latui«r (1775-1864] 


The leaves are falling; so am I; 

The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; 

So have I too. 
Scarcely on any bough is heard 
Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird 

The whole wood throu^. 

Winter may come: he brings but nigher 
His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire 


The River of Life 407 

Where (dd friends meet. ■ 
Let him; now heaven is overcast, 
And spiiog and summer both are past, 

And all things Hweet. 

Wailtr Smage Laadar [1775-1864] 


Yeass, many parti-colored years, 
Some have crept on, and some have flown 

Since first before me fell those tears 
I never could see fall alone. 

Years, not so many, are to come. 
Years not so varied, when from you 

One more will fall: when, carried home, 
I see it not, nor bear Adieu. 

Walter Socage Landor 11775-1864] 


But as the careworn cheek grows wan, 

And sorrow's shafts fly thicliei, 
Ye Stars, that measure life to man. 

Why seem your courses quicker? 

When joys have lost their bloom and breath. 

And life itself is vapid, 
Why, as we reach the Falls of Death, 

Feel we its tide more rapid? 

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■40(1 Poems of Youth and Age 

It may be straofe — yet who would change 

Time's course lo slower !q>eeding, 
When one by one our friends have gone 

And Icit our bosoms bleeding? 

Heaven gives our years of fading strength 

Indemnifying £ectnes5; 
And those of youth, a seeming length, 

Proportioned to their swcetocas.' . 

Thomas CaMpbtU (1777-1844] 


L0N6 time a child, and still a child, when years 

Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I, — 

For yet I lived like one not born to dje; 

A thriftless prodigal of smites and tears, 

No hope I needed, and I knew no fears. 

But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep; and waking, 

I waked to sleep no more; at once o'lsrtaking 

The vanguard of my age, with all arrears 

Of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man, 

Nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is gray. 

For I have lost the race I never r^n: 

A rathe December blights my lagging May; 

And still I am a child, though I be old: 

Time is my debtor for my years untold. 

Uarlley Coleridge [i 796-1849] 


Few, in the days of early youth. 
Trusted like me in love and truth. 
I've learned sad lessons from the years; 
But slowly, and with many tears; 
For God made me to kindly view 
The world that I was passing thnnigb. 

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The World I •Am Passing Through 403 

How little did I once belitve 
That friendly tones cpuld e'er dcceivel 
That kindness, and forbearance long. 
Might meet ingratitude and vrrcd^l 
I could not help but kindly view 
The world that I was passing througb. 

Fiom faith and hope to drift apart,— 

May they themselves be spared the pain 

Of Ipsing power to tmst again! 

God help us all to kindly view 

The world that we are pasang through! 

Lyiia itario Ckiid (iSo:i-igSo] 

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410 Poems of Youth and Age 


It b time to be old, 

To take in sail;— 

The god of bounds. 

Who sets to seas a shore, 

Came to mc in his fatal rounds, 

And said: "No more! 

No farther shoot 

Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root. 

Fancy departs: no more invent; 

Contract thy firmamtnt 

A little while 

Still plan and smile, 

And,— fault of novel germs, — 

Mature the unfallen fruit. 

Curse, if thou wilt, thy sires. 

Amid the Gladiators, halt and numb." 

As the bird trims her to the gale, 
I trim myadf to tbe stona of time, 
I man the rudder, reef the sail, 
Obey tbe v^dce at eve obeyed at prime: 


Rabbi Ben Ezra 411 

"Lowly faithful, baniBh fear, 
Right ODward drive unhunied; 
The port, well wonb the cruise, is nesi, 
And every wave is cbanoed." 

Ralph Waido Emtrson [1803- iSSi] 

You all, nor be afraid!" 

Not that, amassing flowers, 

Youth sighed, "Which rose make ours. 
Which Hly leave and then as best recall?" 

Not that, admiring stars, 

It yearned, "Nor Jove, nor Mars; 
Hine be some figured flame which bltnds, transcends them 

Not for such hopes and fears 

Annulling youth's brief years. 
Do I remoDStrate; folly wide the mark! 

Rather I prize the doubt 

Low kinds exist without. 
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spaik, ' 

Poor vaunt of life indeed. 

Were man but formed to feed 
On joy, to solely seek and find and feast: 

Such feasting ended, then 

As sure an end to men; 
Irks care the crop-fnll bird? Frets doubt tbc maw-cranuned 

Rejoice we are allied 

To that which doth phivide 


412 Poems of Youth and Age 

And not partake, effect and not receive! 

A spark disLurbfl our clod; 

Nearer we hold of God 
Who gives, than of hia tribes lliat take, I must believe. 

Then, welcome each rebuff 

That turns earth's smoothness rough, 
Each sling that bids nor sit nor stand but go! 

Be our joys three-parts pain! 

Strive, and hold cheap the strain; 
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throel 

For thence, — a paradox 

Which comforts while it mocks,— 
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail; 

What I aspired to be. 

And was not, comforts me; 
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale. 

Wliat is he but a brute 

Whose flesh has soul to suit. 
Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play? 

To man, propose this test — 

Thy body at its best, 
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way? 

Yet gifts should prove their use; 

I own the Past profuse 
Of power each side, perfecti&n every turn; 

Eyes, ears took in their dole. 

Brain treasured up the whole: 
Should not the heart beat once "How good tt^.live and 

Not once beat "Praise be thine! 

I see the wbole design, 
I, who saw power, see now Love perfect too: 

Perfect 1 call thy plan: 

Thanks that I was a man! 
Maker, remake, oon^etc, — I trust what thDU shall do!" 


. Rabbi Ben Ezra 413. 

For plessant is this flesh; 

Our soul, in its roGe-taash 
Pulled ever to the earth, bUU yeuoa fw fe&t: 

Would we sonw pruw might hold 

To match those manifdd 
Posaessiora of the brute,— gain nuwl, as we did bestl 

Let us not always say, 

"Spite ol this flesh to-day 
1 strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole! " 

As the bird wings and sings, 

Let us cry, "All good things 
Are ours, nor soul he^ flesh more, now, than flesh hclpa 

From ;h in the gei 

And I shall thereupon 

Take rest, ere I be gone 
Once more on my adventure hmvc and new: 

Fearless and unperplexed, 

When I wage battle next, 
What weapons to select, what armor to indue. 

Youth ended, I shall try 

My gain or loss thereby; 
Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold; 

And 1 shall weigh the same, 

Give life its praise or blame: 
Voung, all lay in dispute; I shall kmw, being <Ad. 

For note, when evening sbuta, 

A certain moment cuts 
The deed o£f, calls tbe ^ory frotn the. gray: 

A whisper from the west 

Shoots—" Add this to the rest. 
Take it and try its worth: bcce dies anotbei day." 


414 Poems of Youth and Age 

So, still within thb life, 

Though lifted o'er its strife. 
Let me discern, compare, pronounce at last, 

"This rage was right i' the main. 

That acquiescence vain: 
Tlie Future I may face now I have proved the FaatL" 

For more is not reserved 

To man, with aoul just nerved 
To act to-morrow what he learns to^y: 

Here, woric enough to watch 

The Master work, and catch 
Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play. 

As it was better, youth 

Should strive, through acts uncouth, 
Toward making, than repose on aught found made: 

So, better, age, exempt 

From strife, should know, than tempt 
Further. Thou wajtedest age: wait death nor be afraldl 

Enough now, if the Right 

And Good and Infinite 
Be named here, as thou callcst thy band thine own, 

With knowledge absolute, 

Subject to no dispute 
From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee feel alone. 

Be there, for once and all, 

Severed great minds from small. 
Announced to each his station in the PastI 

Was I, the world arraigned, 

Were they, my soul disdained, 
Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace at lastl 

Now, who ^all arbitrate? 

Ten men love what I hate, 
Siun what I follow, aU^t what I receive; 

Ten, who in ears and eyes 

Match me: we all srnmise, 
Tliey this thbig,aiidl tliat:wliDmshaUmys(wlbdieve? 

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Rabbi Ben Ezra 4IJ. 

Not on the vulgar mass 

Cailed "work," must sentence pass; 
Things done, that ttxA the ^e and had the price; 

O'er which, from level stand, 

The low world laid its band, 
Found strai^tway^ to its mind, could value in a trice: 

But all, the world's coarse thumb 

And finger failed to plumb, 
So passed in toaking up the main ilccount; 

All instincts immature. 

All purposes unsure, 
IW wdf^iednot as his work, yet swelled the mao's amount: 

Thoughts hardly to be packed 

Into a narrow act, 
Fancies that broke through language and escaped; 

All I could never be, 

All, men ignored in me. 
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. 

Ay, note that Potter's wheel. 

That metaphor! and feel 
Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay,— 

Thou, to whom fools propound, 

When the wine makes its round, 
"Since life fleets, all is change; the Past gone, seize to-dayl " 

Fool! AH that is, at all, 

Lasts ever, past recall; 
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure: 

What entered into thee. 

Thai was, is, and shall be: 
Time's wheel runs back or stops: Potter and day endure. 

He fixed thee 'mid this dance 

Of plastic ciraunstaiice. 
This Promt, tl»u, fonooth, would fain arrest: 

Machinery just meant 

To grvc thy soul its bent. 
Try thee aod turs thee fcrth, sufficiently impieased. 


41 6 Poems of Youth and Age 

What though the earlier grooves 

Which ran the lau^iing lof%3 
Around thy base, no longer pause and presa? 

What though, about thy rim, 

Scull-things in order grim 
Grow oat, in graver moDd, obey the atenier stress? 

Look not thou down but up I 

To uses of a cup, 
The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal, 

The new wine's foaming flow. 

The Master's lips a-glow! 
Thoa, heaven's consummate cup, what needest thou witli 
earth's wheel? 

But 1 need, now as then, 

Thee, God. who mouldcst men; 
And since, not even while the whffl was worst. 

Did I.— lo the wheel of life 

With shapes and colors rife. 
Bound dizzily, — mistake my end, to slake thy thirst: 

So, take and use thy work: 

Amend what flaws may lurk. 
What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim! 

My times be in thy hand! 

Perfect the cup as planned! 
Let age approve of youth, and death complete the samel 
Eoberl Browtting [iSia-igaal 


Sao is our youth, foe it is ever going, 
CrumbUng away beneath our very feel; 
Sad is our hfe, for onnaid itfs fiowing. 
In current unperceived because so fleet; 
Sad are our hopes for they were sweet in somng, 
But tares, self-sown, have overtopped the wheat; 
Sad are our joys, for they were aweet in blowing; 
And still, still, tbeic dying breath is sweet: 

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The Isle of the Long Ago 417 

And sweet is youth, although it hath bereft us 
Of that which made our childhood sVeeUs still; 
And sweet our life's decline, for it hath left us 
A nearer Good to cure an older III: 
.\nd sweet are all things, when wc leam to prize them ' 
Not for their sake, but His who grants them or denies them. 
Aubrey Thomas dc Vere [1814-1903] 


Froa " Ths nMcr Sitrn* " 

When all the world is young, lad. 

And alt the trees are green; 
And every goose a swan, lad, 

And every lass a queen; 
Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 

And round the worid away; 
Young blood must have its course, l»d, 

And every dog his day. 

When aU the wori^ is old, lad, 

And aU the trees axe brown j 
And all the sport is stale, lad. 

And all the wheels run down: 
Creep hooie, and take youi place there, 

The spent and maimed among: 
God gmnt you find one face there 

You loved when all was yonng. 


O! A wonderful stream is the River Time, 

As it runs through the realm of tears. 
With a faultless rhythm and a moiidal rhyme. 
And a broader sweep and a surge suUime, 
As it blends with the Ocean of Yeare. 

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41 8 Poems of Youth and Age 

How the winters are drifting, like flakes ol snow, 

And the suoimers, like buds between, _ 

And the year in the sheaf — so they amie atid tbey go, 
On the river's breast, with its ebb aitd its flow. 
As it glides in the shadow and sheen. 

There's a magical isle up the River Time, 

Where the softest of airs are playing; 
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime, 
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime, 

And the Junes with the roses are straying. 

And the name of the isle is the Long Ago, 

And we bury ourtreasures there; 
There arc brows of beauly, and bosoms of snow; 
There are heaps of dust — but we loved them so! 

There are trinkets, and tresses of hair. 

There are fragments of song that nobody sings. 

And a part of an infant's prayer; 
There's a lute miswept, and a harp without stxings; 
There are broken vows, and pieces of rings, 

And the garments that She used to wear; 

There are hands that are waved, when the foiry shore 

By the mirage is lifted in air; 
And we sometimes hear, through the turbulent roar, 
Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before, 

When the wind down the river is fair, 

O! remembered for aye be the blessed isle, 

All the day of our life till night; 
When the evening comes with its beautiful smile. 
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile, 

May that "Greenwood" of Soul be in sight! 

Benjamin Franklin Taylor (1819-1887] 


What is it to grow old? 

Is it to lose the glory of the form, 

The luBlre of the eye? 


Growing Old 

Is it for beauty to forego her wealth? 
— Yes, but not this alOne. 

Is it to feel our strength — 

Not our bloom only, but our strength — decay? 

Is it to fed each limb 

Grow stiffer, every function less exact. 

Each nerve more loosely strung? 

Yes, this, and more; but not — 

Ah, 'tb not what in youth we dreamed 'twould bel 

Tis not to have our life 

Mellowed and softened as with sunset glow, 

A golden day's decline. 

lis not to see the world 

As from a height, with rapt prophetic eyes, 

And heart profoundly stirred; 

And weep, and feel the fulnesa ot the past, 

The years that are no more. 

It ii to spend long days 

And not once feel that we were «ver yoimg; 

It is to add. Immured 

In the hot pristm of the present, month 

To month with weary pain. 

It ia to suffer this, 

And feel but half, and feebly, what we feel. 

Deep in our hidden heart 

Festers the dull remembrance of a change, 

But no emotion — none. 

It is!— last stage of ail- 
When we are frozen up within, and quite 
He phantom of ourselves, 
To bear the world applaud the hollow ghost 
Which blessed the living man. 

IffaUhan A'raoldliSii-iSiS] 

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430 Poems of Youth and Age 


The clocks are chiming in my heart 
Their cobweb chime; 
Old murmurings of days that die, 
The sob of things a-drifting by. 
The clocks are chiming in my heart! 

The stars have twinkled, and gone out — 
Fair candles blown! 
The hot desires burn low, and wan 
Those ashy fires, that 9aroed anon. 
The stars have twinkled, and gone out! 

John Gal!Wartky [[867- 


When I was young the twiligfat seemed too long. 
How often on the western window-seat 

I leaned my book against the misty pane 
And spelled the last enchanting lines again. 
The while my motlter hummed an ancient song, 
Or sighed a little and said: "The hour is sweet!" 
When I, rebellious, clamored for the light. 

But now I love the soft approach of night. 

And now with folded hands I sit tmd dretun 
White alt too fleet the hours of twilight seem; 

And thus I know that I am growing old. 

O granaries of Age! O manifold 
And royal harvest of the common years! 
There are in all thy treasure-house no ways 
But lead by soft descent and gradual slope 
To memories more exquisite than hope. 
Thine is the Iris born of olden tears, 
And thrice more happy are the happy days 
That live divinely in the lingering rays. 

3- UaryF. Sebimon [1857- 


Forty Years On 


Votrm hath many charms, — 
Hath many joys, and much delight; 

Even its dou'bts, and vague alarms. 
By coDtrast make it bright: 

And yet — and yet — forsooth, 
I love Age as well as Youthl 

Well, since I love them both, 


Forty years on, whin afar and asunder 

Parted are those who are singii^ today. 
When you look back, and forgetfiUly wonder 

What you were like in your work and your play; 
ITien, it may be, there will often come o'er you 

Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song- 
Visions of boyhood shall float them before yoa, 
Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along. 
Follow up! Follow up! Follow up! Follow up! 
Till the field ring again and again, 
With the tramp of the twenty-two men. 
Follow up! Follow up! 

Routs and discomfitures, rushes and rallies, 
Bases attempted, and rescued, and won, 

Strife without anger, and art without malice, — 
How wiH it seem to you forty y^rs on? 

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4i2 Poems of Youth and Age 

Then, you will say, not a feverish minute 

Strained the weak heart, and the wavering knee. 

Never the battle raged hottest, but in it 
Neither the last nor the faintest were we! 
Follow up! Follow up! 

O the great days, in the distance enchanted, 

Days of fresh air, in the rain and the sun. 
How we rejoiced as we struggled and panted — 

Hardly believable, fony years on! 
How we discoursed of them, one with another, 

Auguring triumph, or balancing fate, 
Loved the ally with the heart of a brother. 

Hated the foe with a playing at hate! 
Follow up! Follow upl 

Forty years on. growing older and older, 

Shorter in wind, and in memory long. 
Feeble of foot and rheumatic of shoulder. 

What will it help you that once you were strong? 
God gives us bases to guard or beleaguer, 

Games to ^y out, whether earnest or fun, 
Fights for the feariess, and goals for the eager. 

Twenty, and thirty, aiul forty yeais oal 
Follow upl Follow up! 

Edwird Enttsl Bowen [i3j6-igoi] 

Ite fire ia out, and spent the warmth thereof, 
(This is the end of every song man sings!) 
The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain, 
Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain; 
And health and hope have gone the way of love 
Into the drear oblivion of lost things. 
Ghosts go along with us until the end; 
This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend. 
With pale, indifferent eyes, wc sit and wait 
For the dropped curtain and the closing gate: 
This is the end of all the songs man sings. 

Emtit DoTDson (TS67-1Q00I 


The Paradox of Time 



TmE gots, yoiLsay? Ah no! 
Alas, Time stays, we go; 

Or else, were tbie not so. 
What need to chain the houre. 
For Youth were always oura? 

Time goes, you say? — ah no I 

Ours is the eyes' deceit 
Of men whose flying feet 

Lead through some landscape low; 
We pa», and think we see 
The earth's fixed suiface flee: — 

AIa«v Time aUys— we go I 

Once in the days of old, 


Once, whtm my v«ce was strcng, 
I filled the woods with song 

To praise your " rose" and "snow"; 

My bird, that sang, is dead; ^ 

Where are your roses fled? 
Alas, Time stays— we gol 

See, in what traversed ways, 
What backward Fate delays 

The hopes we used to know; 
Where are our old desires?— 
Ah, where those vanished fires? 

Time goes, you say?— ah not 


4^4 Poems of Youth and Age 

How far, how far, O Sweet, 
The past behind our feet 
Lies in the even-glow! 

Now, on the forward way, 
Let us fold hands, and pray; 
Alas, Time stays,— iw gol 

Austin DiAsoH {1840- 

Snow and stars, the same as ever 
In the days when I was young, — 

But their silver song, ah never, 
Never now is sung! 

Cold the stars are, oM the earth is. 

Everything is grim and cold! 
Strange and drear the sound of mirth is — 

Life and I are old! 

WiUiam WiiUr (iSjfr-igiTl 

Dawn drives the drean' 

Once, in a tide of pal 
I dreamed I wandered c 

When suddenly the b 

Still it was Winter, even in the dream; 

There was no )e^ nor bud nor young grasasprmging; 
The skies shone cold above the frost-bound stream: 

It was not Spring, and yet the birds were singing. 

BlackMrd and thrush and plaintive willow-wren, 
Chaffinch and lark and linnet, all were calling; 

A golden web of music held me then, 
Innumerable voices, rising, falling. 

O, never do the birds of April sing 

More sweet than in that dream I still remember: 
Perchance the heart may keep its songs of Spring 

Even through the wintry dream of life's December. 
Rosaumad MarrioU Walton [i86j-tgii] 


An Old Man's Song 


FtiLL happy is the man who comes at last 

Into the safe completion of his year; 
Weathered the perils of his spring, that blast 

How many blossoms promising and dear! 
And of his summer, with dread passions fraught 

That oft, like fire through the ripening com. 
Blight all with moddog death and leave distraught 

Loved ones to mourn the ruined waste forlorn. 
But now, though autumn gave but harvest slight, 

Oh, grateful is be to the powers above 
For winter's sunshine, and the lengthened night 

By hearth-side gerual with the warmth of love. 
Through silvered days of vistas ^Id and green 
Contentedly he glides away, serene. 

Timothy Cole [iSs"- 


Ye are young, ye are young, 
lam old, I am old; 

And the song has been sung 
And the story been told. 

Your locks are as brown 
As the mavis in May, 

Your hearts are as warm 
As the sunshine to-day, 

But mine white and cold 
As the snow on the brae. 

And Love, like a flower. 

Is growing for you, 
Hands clasping, lips meeting, 

Hearts beating so true; 
While Fame like a star 
In the midnight afar 

Is flashing for you. 


426 Poems of Youth and Age 

For you the To-come, 
But for me the Gone-by, 

You are panting to live, 

I am waiting to die; 
The meadow is empty, 

No flower groweth high, 
And naught but a socket 

The face of the sky. 

Yea, howso we dream, 

Or how bravely we do; 
The end is the same. 

Be we traitor or true: 
And after the bloom 

And the passton is past. 

Death cometh at last. 

Richard Lc GaUUitnt li86^ 



There's no dew left on (he daisies and dgver, 

There's no rain left in heaven; 
I've said my "seven tiroes" over and over, 

Seven times one are seven. 

I am old, so old, I can write a letter; 

My birthday lessons are done; 
The lambs play always, they know no better; 

They are, only one times one. 

moont in the night I have seen you sailing 
And shining so round and low; 

You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing,— 
You are nothing now but a bow. 

You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven 
That God has hidden your face? 

1 hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven. 
And shine again in your place. 


Songs of Seven 42 

velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow, 
You've powdered your legs with goldl 

brave marsh marybuds, rich and yellow, 
Give me youi money to hold! 

O columbine, open your Folded wrapper, 
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell? 

cuckoopint, toll me the purple dapper 
That hangs in your clear green bell! 

And show me your nest with the young ones in it; 
I wOl not steal them away; 

1 am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet, — 
I am seven times one to-day. 


You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes, 

How many soever they be, 
And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he ranges 

Come over, come over to me. 

Yet birds' clearest carol by fall or by sw«fflihg 

No magical sense conveys, 
And bells have forgotten their old art (rf tuning 

The fortune of future days 

"Turn again, turn again," once they rang cbeerily, 

While a boy listened alone; 
Made his heart yearn again, musing so wearily 

All by himself on a stone. 

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428 Poems of Youth and Age 

I wish and I wisli thai the spring wouM go faster. 

Nor long summer bide so lale; 
And I could grow on like the fonglovc and aster. 

For some things are ill lo wail. 

1 wait for the day when dear hearU shall discover, 
While dear hands are laid on my head; 

"The child is a woman, ihe book may close over. 
For all the lessons arc said." 

I wait for my story ,^the birds cannot sing it, 

Not one, as he ats on the tree; 
The bells cannot ring it. but long years, oh, bring it! 

Such as I wisb it to be. 


I LEANED out of window, I smelt the white clover, 
Dark, dark was the garden, I saw oot the gate; 
"Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover,— 
Hush, nightingale, hush! O sweet nightingale, wait 
Till I listen and hear 
If a step drawetb near, 
For my love be is late! 

"The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, 

A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree, 
The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer: 
To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see? 
Let the star-clusters grow, 
Let the sweet waters flow, 
And cross quickly to me. 

"You night-moths that hover, where honey brims over 

From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep; 
You glowworms, shine out, and the pathway discover 
To him that comes darkling along the rough steep. 
Ah, my sailor, make haste. 
For the time runs to waste, 
And my love lieth deep, — 


Songs of Seven a^9 

"Too deep for swift tcBing; and yet, my one lover, 

I've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to-night." 
By the sycamore passed he, and through the white 

Then all the sweet speech I had fashiooed took flight; 
But I'U love him- more, more 
Than e'er wile loved before, 
Be the days dark or bright. 


Heigh-ho! daisies ai>d buttercups! 

Fair yellow daf[o«lils, stately and tall! 
When the wind wakea how they rods, in the giasxs, 

And dance with the cuckoo-buds skndcr and small 1 
Here's two bonny boys, and here's mother's own lasses, 

Eager to gather them all. 

Heigh-ho! dwsics and buttemips; 

Mother shall thread them a daisy chain; 
Sing them a song of the pretty hedge -spiarrow. 

That loved her brown little ones, loved them full fain; 
Sing, "Heart, thou art wide though the house be but nar- 

Sing once, and ^ng it again. 

Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups! 

Sweet wagging cowslips, they bend and they bow; 
A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters. 

And haply one musing doth stand at her prow. 
O bonny brown sons, and sweet little daughters. 

Maybe he thinks of you now. 

Hogh-ho! daisies and buttercups! 

Fair yelkw daffodils, stately and tall! 
A sunshiny world full of laughter and kbure. 

And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall! 
Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its measure, 

God that is over us aU! 

p:hy Google 

430 Poems of Youth and Age 


I SLEEP and rest, my heart makes moan 

Before I am well awake; 
"l*t me bleed! let me alone, 

Since I must not break!" 

For children wake, though fathers sleep 
With a stone at foot and at head: 

sleepless God, forever keep. 
Keep both living and dead I 

1 lift mine eyes, and what to aee 
But a world happy and fairl 

I have not wished it to mourn with me,— 
Comfort is not then. 

Ofa, what anear but golden bniOBis, 

But a waste of reedy rills! 
Oh, what afar but the fine glooms 

On the rare blue hillsl 

I shall not die, but live forlore, — 

How bitter it is to part! 
Oh, to meet thee, my love, once morel 

my heart, my heart! 

No more to hear, no more to see! 

Oh, that an echo might wake 
And waft one note of thy psalm to me 
Ere my heart-strings break! 

I should know it how fafnt soe'er. 

And with angel voices blent; 
Oh, once to feel thy spirit anear; 

1 could be content! 

Or once between the gates of gold. 
While an entering angel trod. 

But once, — thee silting to behold 
On the hills of GodI 

p:hy Google 

Songs of Seven 4J1 


To bear, to nurse, to rew. 

To watdi, and then to lose: 
To see my bri|^t ones disappear. 

Drawn up like mom i ng dews, — 
To bear, to xtiuse, to leu, 

To watch and then to Iok: 
This have I done when God drew ncM 

Among bis own to choose. 

To hear, to heed, to wed, 

Aod with thy lord depart 
In tears, that he, as soon as shed. 

Will let no- longer smart, — 
To hear, to heed, to wed. 

This while thou didst I smiled. 
For now it was not God who said, 

"Mother, give me thy child." 

fond, O fool, and bHndl 

T» God I gave with tears; 
But when a man like grace would find, 

My soul put by her feara, — 
O f<md, O fool, and Mind! 

God guards In happier spheres; 
That man will guard where be did bind 

Is hc^ for unknown years. 

To hear, to heed, to wed, 

Fair lot that maidens choose, 
Thy mother's Lenderest words are said, 

Thy face no more she views; 
Thy mother's lot, my dear, 

She doth in naught accuse; ,,, ,ji(i;i A 
Her lot to bear, ta JlWOMritQiISHrjidiKw vi rk« A 

Tolove,— aiiiitheO(i6oJ<tsHt ■jAA-lmo/ liAl 

SEVEN TIMES SE;v»«>TrtP?*PWft.ieft^>lffl.);H 1 
A SONG of a boat:— I i'l'l-^'^ .X'l'l^^rf ,riA 

LighUy ae'JfeekeaityTi«'!()brti«hweH'= ■<'^'"" 


.432 Poems of Youth and Age 

And die foam was white in her wake like snow, 
And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow. 
And bent like a wand of willow. 

I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat 

Went curtsying over the biUon, 
I marked her course till a dandng mote, 

She faded out on the moonlit loam, 

And T stayed behind in the dear-loved home; 
And my thoughts all day were about the boat. 

And my dreams upon the pillow. 

I pray you hear my song of a boat 

For it is but short:— 
My boat you shall find none fairer afloat. 

In river or port. 
Long I looked out for the lad she bore, 

On the open desolate sea, 
And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore. 

For he came not back to me — 

Ah mel 
A song of a nest: — 

There was once a nest in a hollow: 
Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed, 
Soft and warm and full to the brim^ 
Vetches learted over it purple, and dim, 

With buttercup buds to follow. 

I pray you hear my song of a nest, 

For it is not long: — 
You shall never l^ht in a summer quest 

The bushes among — 
Shall never light on a prouder sitter, 

A fairer nestful, nor ever know 
A softer sound than their tender twitter, 

That wind-like did come and go. 

I had 3 nestful once of my own. 

Ah, happy, happy 1 ! 
Right dearly I loved them; but when they were grown 

They spread out their wings to fly — 


Songs of Seven 

Oh, one after one they flew away 
Far up to the heavenly blue, 

To the better country, the upper day. 
And — I wish I was going too. 

I pray you what is the nest to me. 

JtOH Interne [iS2o~iSgT) 

D,g,t,7P:hy Google 


Happy those early days, when I 
Shined in my Angel'in fancy! 
Before I understood this place 
Appointed for my second lace. 
Or taught my soul to fancy aught 
But a white, celestial thought; 
When yet I had not walked above 
A mile or two from my first Love, 
And looking back, at that short q>ace 
Could see a glimpse of His bright face; 
When on some gilded cloud oi flower 
My gazing soul would dwell an hour. 
And in those weaker glories spy 
Some shadows of eternity; 
Before I taught my tongue to wound 
My Conscience with a sinful sound. 
Or had the black art to dispense 
A several sin to every sense; 
But felt through all this fleshly di^ss 
Bright shoots of everlastingness. 

O how I long to travel back, 
And tread again that ancient trackl 
That I might once more reach that plain 
Where first I left my glorious train; 
From whence the enlightened spirit sees 
That shady City of Pahn-trecs. 
But ah! my soul with too much stay 
Is drunk, and staggers in the way! 
Some men a forward motion love, 
But I by backward steps would move; 
And, when this dust falls to the um. 
In that state I came, return. 

Henry VaugkiM [1612- 


Castles in the Air 435 

LooE in my face; my name is Mif^t-have-becn; 
I am also cafled NcMBoce, Too^te, Fanwdl; 
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell 
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between; 
Unto thine ejres the ^ass where that is seen 
Which had Life's form and I^ove's, but by my spell 
Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, 
Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen. 
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart 
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise 
Of that winged Peace whidi lulls the breath of sighs,— 
Then shall thou see me smfle, and turn apart 
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart 
Sle^less with cold commemorative eyes. 

DoHle Gabriei RosiOH liiii-iiiii 

Wren to the garden of untroubled thou^t 
I came of late, and saw the open door, 
And wished agab to enter, and explore 
The sweet, wild ways with stainless bloom inwrought, 
And bowers of innocence with beauty fraught. 
It seemed some purer voice must speak before 
I dared to tread that garden loved of yore, 
That Eden lost unknown and foand unsoui^. "" 
llien just within the gate I saw a child, — 
A stranger-diild, yet to my heart most dear, — 
Who held his hands to me and softly smiled 
With eyes that knew no shade of sin or fear; 
"Come in," he said, "and play awhile with me; 
I am the little child you used to be." 

Henry Van Dyke liisi- 

Hy tbon^ts by night are often filled 

With visions false as fair: 
For in the I*a£t alooe I build 

My castlea in the air. 


436 Poems of Youth and Age 

I dwell not now on what may be; 

Night shadows o'er the scene; 
But still my fancy wanders free 

"Hirough that which might have b«n. 

TbctKos Lam Peacock |i78i-(866]. 


Across the fields of yesterday 
He sometimes comes to me, 

A little lad just back from play— 
The lad I used to be. 

And yet be smiles so wistfully 

Once he has crept within, 
I wonder if he hopes to see 

The man I might have been. 

Thomas S. Jena, Jr. [1882- 

Where are they gone, and do yon know 

If they come back at fall o' dew, 
The liltle ghosts of long ago, 

That long ago were youf 

And all the songs that ne'er were sung. 

And all the dreams that ne'er came true, 
L^e little children dying young — 

Do they come back to you? 

Thomas S. Jones, Jr. [i8Sj- 

Children, do j'ou ever, 

In walks by land or sea, 
Meet a little maiden 

Long time lost to mc? 

She is gay and gladsome. 

Has a lauj^iing face, 
And a heart as sunny; 

And her name is Cracif. 

p:hy Google 

A Shadow Boat 

Naught ^e knows of sorrow, 
Naught of doubl or blighl; 

Heaven is just above her— 
All her thoughts axe whke. 

Long lime since I lost t>er. 

That other Me of mine; 
She crossed, into Time's shadow 

Out of Youth's sunshine. 

Now the darkness keeps her; 

And. call her as I will, 
The years that lie between us 

Hide her from me still. 

I am dull and pain-worn, 

And lonely aa can be — 
Oh, children, if you meet her. 

Send back my other Me! 

Gract Dmio UtekfidI {1849- 


Undeb my keel another boat 

Sails as I sail, floats as I float; 
Silent and dim and mystic still, 

It steals through that weird nether-woild, 
Mocking my power, thongh at my will 

The foam before its [»x>w is curled, 

Or calm it lies, with canvas furled. 

Vainly I peer, and fain would see 
What phantom in that boat may be: 

Yet half I dread. lest I with ni(h 
Some ghost of my dead past divine. 

Some grarious shape of my lost youlh, 
Whose deathless eyes once fixed on mine 
Would draw me downward through the brine! 
AtU> Bala [18 jo- 


438 Poems of Youth and Age 


Sing me a song of a lad that is gone; 

Say, could that lad he I? 
Merry of soul he sailed on a day 

Over the sea to Skye. 

Mull was astern, Rum on the port) 

Eigg on the starboard bow; 
Glory of youth glowed in his soul: 

Where is that glory now? 

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone; 

Say, could thai lad be I? 
Merry of soul he sailed on a day 

Over the sea to Skye. 

Give roe again all that was there, 

Give me the sun that shone! 
Give me the eyes, give me the soul, 

Give me the lad that's gone! 

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone; 

Say, could thai lad he I? 
Merry of soul he .sailed on a day 

Over the sea to Skye. 

Billow and breeze, islands and seas, 

Mountains of rain and sun, 
AU that was good, all that was fair, 

All that was me is gone. 

Roberi ImHs Sietauon {1850-1804] 


"I'm growing old, I've sixty yeaxa; 

I've labored all my life in vain. 
In all that time of hopes and fears, 

I've failed my dearest wish to gain. 

• For the original of this poem see page 3844- 



I see full weU that here below 
Bliss uoalloyed there b for none; 

My prayer would else fulfilment know- 
Never have I seen Carcassonne! 

"You see the city frcMo the hill, 

It lies beyond the mountains blue; 
And yet to reach it one must still 

Five long and weary leagues putsue, 
And, to return, as many more. 

Had but the vintage plenteous grown^ 
But, ah! the grape Withheld its store. 

I shall not look on Carcassonne I 

"They tell me every day is there 

Not more or less tiian Sunday gay; 
In shining robes and garments fair 

The people walk upon their way. 
One gazes there on castle walls 

As grand as those of Babykm, 
A bishop and two generals! 

What jay to dwell in Carcassonne! 

"The vicar's right: he says that we 

Are ever wayward, weak, and blind; 
He tells us in his homily 

Ambition ruins all mankind; 
Yet could I there two days have spent, 

While still the autumn sweetly shone, 
Ah, me! I might have died content 

When I bad looked an Carcassotme. 

"Thy pardon. Father, I beseech. 

In this my prayer if I o&end; 
One something sees beyond his reach 

From childhood to his jouiney 's end. 
My wife, our little boy, Aignan, 

Have travelled even to Nartwnne; 
My grandchild has seen Perpignan; 

And I — have not seen Carcassonne!" 

p:hy Google 

44® Poems of Youth and Age 

So crooned, one day, close by Limoux, 

A peasant, double-bent with age. 
"Rise up, my friend," said I; "with you 

III go upon this pilgrimage." 
We left, next morning, his abode. 

But (Heaven forgive him!) half-way on 
The old man died upon the road. 

He never gazed on Carcassonne. 
Trandattd by John R. Thompson from the French of 
Custatt NoJifiid liSao- i ] 


Old Sorrow I shall meet again. 

And Joy. perchance— but never, never, 

Happy Childhood, shall we twain 
See each other's face forever! 

And yet I would not call thee back, 
Dear Childhood, lest the sight of me. 

Thine old companion, on the rack 
Of Age, should sadden even thee. 

John Banister Taib [1845-1909] 

Omce, when I was little, as the summer night was falling. 
Among the purple upland fields 1 lost my bareroot way; 
The road to home was hidden fast, and frightful shadows, 
Along the sky-line, swallowed up the last kind light of 

And then I seemed to hear you 

In the twilight, and be near you; 
Seemed to hear your dear voice calling — 
Through the meadows, calling, calling — 

And I followed and I found you. 

Flung my tired arms around you, 
And rested on the mother-breast, returned, tired out from 





Down the days team tbat day, tboitgh I trod strange 
paths unheeding, 
Thou^ I chased the jack -o' -Ian Leins of so many mad- 
dened ycsss. 
Though 1 never looked behind me, where the home-lights 
were receding, 
Though I never looked enough ahead to ken the Inn of 
StiU I knew your heart was near me. 
That your ear was strained to hear me, 
That your love would need no pleading 
To forgive me, but was pleading 
Of its self that, in disaster, 
I should run to you the faster 
And be sure that I was dearer for your sacrifice of tears. 

Kow on life 's last Summertime the long last dUsk is falling, 
And I, who trod one way so long, can tread no other way 
Until at death's dim crossroads I watdi, hesitant, the 
Night-passages that maze me with the ultimate dismay. 
Then when Death and Doubt shall blind me — 
Even then— I know you'll find mc: 
I shall hear you. Mother, calling — 
Hear yon calling — calling — caliinc : 
I shall fight and follow — find you 
Thou^ the grave-clothes swathe and bind you. 
And I know your love will answer: "Here's my laddie 
home from play!" 

Reginald WrigU Kaufman [1877- 


The world was wide when I was young, 
My schoolday hills and dales among; 
But, oh, it needs no Puck to put. 
With whipping wing and flying foot, 
A girtBe 'round the narrow sphere 
In which I labor now and berel 


44^ Poems of Youth and Age 

Life's face was fair when cardess I 
First loved beneath an April sky. 
And wept those fine-imagined woes 
Thai Youth at nineteen thinks it knows; 
Now love and woe both run so de^ 
I have not any time to we^. 

No matter; though at last we see 
That what was could not always be. 
It girds our loins and steels our hands 
In duller days and smaller lands 
To recollect the country where 
The world was wide and life was fair. 

RegitiM Wright Kaufman I187T- 

There is a temfJe in my heart 

Where moth or rust can never come, 
A temple swept and set apart, 

To make my soul a home. 
And round about the dojrs of Jt 

Hang garlands that forever last, 
That gathered once are always sweet; 

The roses of the Past! 

A. Mary P. Rabinsen (iSjt- 

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead 

Is "nme long past. 
A tone which is now forever fled, • 

A hope which is now forever past, 
A love so sweet it could not last, 

Was Time long past. 
There were sweet dreams in the night 

Of Time long past: 
And, was it sadness or delight, 
Each day a shadow onward cast 
Which made us wish it yet might last, — 

That Time long past. 


I Remember, I Remember" 443 

There is regret, almost remorse. 

For Time long past. 
Tis like a child's belovW corse 
A father watches, till at last 
Beauty is like remembrance, cast 

From Time long past. 

Percy Bysske Shdley [it9i-iSi>1 


I remember, 1 remember 
The roses, red and mhite, 
The violets, and the Hy-cupa — 
Those flowers made of light ! 
The lilacs where the robin built. 
And where my brother set 
The bbumum on bis birthday,— 
The tree is living yet! 

I remember, I remember 

Where I was used to swing, 

And thought the air must rush as fresh 

To swallows on the wing; 

My spirit flew in feathers then 

That is so heavy now, 

"ITie summer pools could hardly cool 

The fever on my brow. 

I remember, I remember 
The fir-trees dark and high; 
I used to think their slender tops 
Were close against the sky: 

p:hy Google 

444 Poems of Youth and Age 

It was a childish igDorance, 

But now 'tis iilUe joy 

To know I'm farther oS from Heaven 

Than when I was a boy. 

Thomas Bood (171)9-1845) 

Often I think of the beautiful town 

That is seated by the sea; 
Often in thought go up and down 
The pleasant streets of that dear old town, 
And my youth comes back to me. 
And a verse of a Lapland song 
Is haunting my memory still: 
"A boy's will is the wind's will. 
And the thoughts of youth, are Jong, long thoughts." 

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees. 

And catch, in sudden ^cams, 
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas. 
And islands that were the Hesperides 
Of all my boyish dreams. 

And the burden of that old song, 
it murmurs and whispers still: 
"A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth arc long, Icng thoughts." 

I remember the black wharves and the slips, 

And the sea-tides tossing free; 
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 
And the beauty and mystery of the ships. 
And the magic of the sea. 
And the voice of that wayward song 
Is singing and saying still: 
"A bay's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

I remember the bulwarks by the ^re, 

And the fort upon the hill ; 
The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar. 
The drum-beat repeated o'er aud o'er, 


My Lost Youth 4^ 

And the bugle wild and shriU. 
And the music of that old song 
Throbs in my memory stiB: 
"A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. *" 

I remember the sea-tight far away, 
How it thundered o'et the tide! 
And the d«ad captains, as they lay 
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay 
Where they in battle died. 

And the sound of that mouniful song 
Goes through mi with a thrill; 
"A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

I can see the breezy dome of groves. 

The shadows of Deering's Woods; 
And the friendships old and the early loves 
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves 

In quiet neighborhoods. 
And the verse of that sweet old song, 

;, long thoughts." 
:hat dart 

"A boy's will is the wind's will. 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

There are things of which I may not apeak; 

There are dreams that cannot die; 
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, 
And biins; a pallor into the cheek, 


4+6 Poems of Youth and Age 

And a mist before the eye. 
And the words of that fatal son^ 
Come over me like a chill: 
"A boy's will is the wind's will, 
Atid the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts " 

Sirange to me are the forms I meet 

When I visit the dear old town; 
But the native air is pure and sweet, 
And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street. 
As they balance up and down. 
Are singing the beautiful song, 
Are sighing and whispering still: 
"Aboy's Willis the wind's will. 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair, 

And with joy that is almost pain 
My heart goes back to wander there. 
And among the dreams of the days that were 
I find my lost youth again. 
And the strange and beautiful song, 
The groves are rq)eating it still: 
"A boy's will is the wind's will. 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thot«hts." 
Henry Wodsworlh Longfellmn Ii8o7-i88aJ 

Voice of the western wind I 

Thou singest from afar. 
Rich with the music of a land 

Where all my memfflies are; 
But in thy song I only hear 

The echo of a tone 
That fell divinely on my ear 

In days forever flown. 

Star of the western sky! 

Thou beamcst from afar. 
With lustre caught from eyes I knew 

Whose orbs were each a star; 


The Shoogy-Shoo 447 

But, oil, those orbs— too wildly bright — 

No more eclipse thine own, 
And never shall I find the light 

Of days forever flown ! 

Edmund Clarence Stcdman [iSjj-igog] 

LangsynE] when hfe was bonnie. 

An' a' the skies were blue. 
When ilka thocht took blossom. 

An' hung its heid wi' dew, 
When winter wasna winter, 

Though snaws cam' happin' doon, 
Langsyne, when life was bonnie, 

Spring gaed a twalmonth roun'. 

Langsyne, when life was bonnie. 

An' a' the days were lang; 
When through them ran the muse 

That comes to us in sang, 
We never wearied liltin' 

The auld love-laden tune; 
Langsyne, when life was bonnie, 

Love gaed a. twalmonth loua'. 

Langsyne, when life was bonnie. 

An' a' the warid was fair, 
ITie leaves were green wi' simmer, 

For autumn wasna there. 
But listen hoo they rustle, 

Wi' an eerie, weary soun'. 
For noo, alas, 'tis winter 

That gangs a twalmonth roun'. 

Alexander Anderson [itUs-igogl 

I DO be thinking, lassie, of the old days now; 
For oh! your hair b tangled gold above your Irish brow; 
And oh! your eyes are fairy flail no other eyes so blue; 
Come nestle in my arms, and swing upon the shoogy-shoo. 

p:hy Google 

44^ Poems of Youth and Age 

Sweet and slow, swinging low, eyes of Irish bine, 
All my heart is swinging, dear, swinging here with you ; 
Irish eyes are like the flax, and mine arc wet with dew, 
Thinking of the old days upon the shoogy-shoo. 
When meadow-larks would singing be in old Glentair, 
Was one sweet lass bad eyes of blue and tanked golden ^r; 
She was a wee bit girlcen then, dear heart, the like of you. 
When we two swung the braes among, upon the shoogy- 

Ah well, the world goes up and down, and some sweet day 

Its shoogy-shoo will swing us two whore sighs will pass away ; 

So nestle close your bonnic head, and close your eyes so 

And swing with me, and memory, upon the shoogy-shoo. 
Sweet and slow, swinging low, eyes of Irish blue, 
All my heart is swinging, dear, swinging here with you) 
Irish eyes axe like the Aas, and mine are wet with dew, 
Thinking of the old days upon the shoogy-shoo. 
Winthrop Packard [1861- 


I'll going softly all my years in wisdom if in paia — 
For, oh, the music stirs my blood as once it did before, 

And stili I heai in Babylon, in Babylon, in Babylon, 
The dancing feet in Babylon, of those who tiook my Door. 

I'm going silent all my years, but garnered in my brain 
Is that swift wit which used to flash and cut them like a 

And now I hear in Babylon, in Babylon, in Babylon, 
The foolish tongues in Babylon, of those who took my 

I'm going lonely all my days, who was the first to crave 
The second, fierce, unsteady voice, that strug^ed to spealc 

And now I watch in Babylon, in Babylon, in Babyton, 
The pallid loves in Babylon of men who once loved me. 


The Triumph of Forgotten Things 4431 , 

I'm sleeping aariy by sl flame ae one conleot and gray, 
But, oh, I dream a dream of dreams beneath i winter 

I ' j'lon, 

p:hy Google 

450 : Poems of Youth and Age . -1 

Tbeie is a patience, too, io tb!bgs Nti^t; 

They wail— Lhey find the portal long'uilusCd;. 

And knocking there, it shall refuse them not/— 
Nor aught shall be rehisedl 

Ah, yes! though we, unheeding years on years, 

In alien pledges spend the twart's estate, 
They bide some blessed moment of qydck tcar^— i 
Some moment without date — 

Some gleam on flower, or leaf, or beaded dew, 
Some tremble at the ear of memoried sound 
T)f mother-song, — tliey seize the slender dew, — 
The old loves gather round! 

When that which lured us once now lureth not, 
' But the tired hands their garnered dross let fall, 

This is the triumph of the things forgot — 
To hear the tired heart call! 

And they are with us at Life's farthest reachj 

A l^ht when into shadow all else dips; 
As, in the stranger's land, thai native speech 
Returns to dying lips! ' 

EdUk U. Tkmat [1S54- 


Me(7 say the sjjUen instrument, 
That, from the Master's bow, 
With pangs of joy or woe, 
Feeb music's soul through every fibre sent, 
Whispers the ravished strings ' 

More than he knew or meant; 
Old summers in its memory ^ow; 
The secrets of the wind it sings; 
It hears the April-loosened firings; 
And mixes with its mood 
AUitdroaoiedwhai: it stood 1 

Ib the munauTDUB pine-wood 

p:hy Google 

In the Twilight 

The magical moonligbt tfken 

Steeped eveiy bough and CtHie; 
The roar of the brook in the glen 

Came dim from the distajice blown; 

TTie wind through its glooms sang low. 

And it swayed to and fro, 

With delight as it stood. 

In the wonderful wood, 

Long ago! 

O my hfe, have we not bad seas(»is 
Tliat only said. Live and rejoice? 
That asked not for causes and reasons, 

But made us all feeling and voice? 
When we went with the winds in their blowing, 

When Nation and we were peers, 
And we seemed to share in the flowing 
Of the inexhaustible years? 
Have we not from the earth drawn juices 
Too fine tor earth's sordid uses? 
Have I heard, have I seen 

All I feel, aU I know? 
Doth my heart overween? 
Or could it have bees 
Long ago? 

Sometimes a breath floats by me, 
An odor from Dreamland sent. 
That makes the ghost seem nigh me 
Of a splendor that came and went. 
Of a life lived somewhere, I know not 

In what diviner sphere, 
Of memories that stay not and go not, 
Like music heard once by an ear 
That cannot forget or recJaiiB it, 
A somcthiug so shy, it would shame it 
To. make it a show, 
A something too vague, could I name it, 
For otliet3 to know, 

p:hy Google 

Poerns of Ywith and Age 

As if I had Uved it o 
As i( I had acted or schemed it, 
Long ago! 

And yet, could I live it over. 

This hfe that stirs in my biain, 
Could I be both maiden and lover, 
Moon and tide, bee and clover, 

As I seem to have been, once again. 
Could 1 but speak it and show it. 
This pleasure more sharp than pain. 
That baffles and lures me so, 
The world should once more have a poet, 
Such as it had 
In the ages glad, 

Long ago! 

James RussOl LowtU ti8i5ri«9«I 


Sing we for love and idleness, 
Naught else is worth the having. 
Though I have been in many a Iwid, 
There b naught else in living. 

And I would rather Have my sweet. 
Though rose-leaves die of grieving, 
Than do high deeds in Hungary 
To pass all men's believing. 

Ezra Pound [iSSj- 


" A CUP lor hopel " rfiq said, i 

In springtime ere the blocan was old; ■ 
The crimson wine was poor and cold ' 

By her month's ricfaec red. 

"A cup for love!" how low, 
How soft the words; and all the while 
Her blush was rippling with a smile 

Like summer after snow. 

p:hy Google 

The Old Familiar FacM 453 

"A cup for memory!" 
Cold cup that one must drain alone: 
While autumn windB are up aod moan 

Across tbe bairen sea. 

Hope, memory, love: 
Hope for fair mom, and love for day, 
And memory for the evening gray 

Aod solitary do^. 

CkrUtiHa Ctorti»a RatuUi (i83»-iSg4) 

I have been laughing, I have been carousing, 
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies, — 
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. 

I loved a Love once, fairest among women; 
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her, — 
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. 

I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man: 
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly; 
Left him, to muse on the old famifiar faces. 

Ghost-like, I paced round the haunts of my childhood. 

Earth seemed a desert I was hound to traverse, 
Seekng to find tlw old familiar faces. 

Friend of my -bosom, thou more than a brother, 
Why wert not thou horn in my father's dwelUng? 
So might we talk of the old familiar faces — 

How some they have died, and some they, have 3eft me. 
And some are' taken from me; alt are departed, -t- 
All, ail are gone, the old familiar faces. > 

Ckarlea Lattb l>iv.f S-1834] 


454 Poems of Youth and Age 

. ' Oft id the stilly luf^t, 

Ere Slumber's diaiD hath b«in<l me, 

Fond memory brings the light 
Of other days around me: 
The smites, the tears, 
Of boyhood's years, 
The words of icrve then spofeen; 
The eyes that shore, 
Now dimmed and gone. 
The cheerful hearts now broken! 
Thus in the stilly night. 

Ere Slumber's chain hath bound me. 
Sad Memory brings tlie light 
Of other days around me. 

When I remember all 

The friends, so linked together, 
I've seen around me fall, 
Like leaves in wintry weather, 
I ieel like one 
Who treads alone 
Some banquet-ball deserted. 
Whose lights are fled. 
Whose garlands dead, 
And all but he departed! 
"Hius in the stilly night. 

Ere Slumber's chain hath bound me, 
Sad Memory brings the light 

Of other days aroimd me. i 

Tkotmai Mopre lijtrv-iSsil 


Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, 
T«ar& from the depth of some divins despair 
Rifie in the heart and gather to the eyes^ 
In looking on the happy Autwnnrfieids, 
. And thinking of the days that are no more. 


The Pet Name 45.5 

Fresh as the first beam gUttering on a sail, 
That brings onr friends up from the tmderworld. 
Sad as the last which Te<ld«nE over one 
That sinks with all we lore below the verge; 
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. 

Though I write hooks, It wffi bo itoA 

Upon the leavee of nMie, 
And afterward', when I am dead, 
Wift ne *« be graved for dght oi trwtd. 

Across my foner^^tone. ' .' 


.456 Poems of Youth and Age 

Thb name, whoever chance to call, . 

Perhaps your smile ma-y win: 
Nay, do not smile! mine eydids fall 
Over mine eyes and (eel withal 

The sudden tears within. 

Is there a leaf, that greenly fpvws 
Where summer meadows bloom. 
But gathcreth the winter snows. 
And changcth to the hue of those, 
I( lasting till they comeP 

Is there a word, or jest, or game. 

But time incrusteth round 
With sod associate thoughts the gamer 
And so to me my very name 

Assumes a mournful sound. 

My brother gave that name to me 
When we were children twain. 

When names acquired bf^tismally 

Were hard to utter, as to see 
That life bad any pain. 

No shade was on us then, save one 

Of chestnuts from the hill; 
And through the word oar Jaugh did run 
As part thereof; the mirth being done, 

He calb me by it still. 

Nay, do not smile! I hear in it 
What none of you can hear, — 
The talk upon the willow seat. 
The bird and wind that did repeat 
Around, our human cheer. 

I hear the birthday 's oiHsy foliss 

My sisters' woodland glee. 
My lather's praise I did itot miss 
When stooping down, he cared to luss 

The poeL at bis knee, — 


Threescore and Ten ^^j 

And voices which, to name mc, aye 
Their tenderest tones were keeping,— - 

To some I nevermore can say 

An answer till God wipes awsy 
In heaven these drops of weeping. 

My name to me a sadness wears: 

No munnura cross my mind — 
Now God be thanked for these thick tears, 
Which ^ow, o( those departed years, 

Sweet memories left behind. 

' Now God be thanked for years enwron^'t 

With love which softens yet: 
Now God be thanked for every thought - 
Which is so tender it has caught 

Earth 's guerdon of regret. 

Earth saddens, never shall remove 
AfTecLioQs purely given; , 

And e'en that mortal grief shall prove 

The immortality of love. 

And heighten it with Heaven. 

Elisitbelh Barrett Brornning |iSo&-iS6i) 


Who reach their threescore years and ten, 

As I have mine, \i-iChout a sigh, 
Are either more or less than men*— 

Not such am I. , 

I am not o£ them; life to me 

Has been a strange, bewildering dream, 
Wherein I knew not things that be 
Fiom thin^ that seem. 

I thought, I hoped, I knew one thing, 

And had one gift, when 1 was young — 
The impulse and the power to sing, 
And so I sung. 


458 Poems of Youth and \ Age 

To have a place in the high choir . 

Of poets, and deserve the sbidb— ; 
What more could mortal maa dcsii^ 
Than poet 's fame? 

I sought it long, but never found; 

The choir so full was and so strong ' 
The jubilant voices there, they dravn^ 
My simple song. 

Men would not hear me then, and now ' 

I care not, I accept my (ate, 
When white hairs thatdi the furrowed brow 
Crowns come too late! 

The best of life went Ibng ago 

From me; it was not much at best; 
Only the love that young hearts know, 
The dear unrest. 

Back on my past, through gathering tears, 

Once more I cast my eyes, and see 
Bright shapes that in my better years ' 
Surrounded me! 

They left me here, they left me there. 

Went down dark pathways, one by one— 
The wise, the great, the young, the fair; 
But I went on. 

And I go on! And bad or good. 

The old allotted years of men 

I have endured as best I could. 

Threescore and ten! 

Richard Henry Sloddard [1815-1903] 


When the humi<j diadows hover 
Over alt the starry sf^ces, 

And the cwlancboly darkness 
Gently weeps in irainy taan, 

p:hy Google 

Rwn on tht Roof 

What i blisa ba press the jmUow 

Of a cotlage-diatnbei bed. 
And. to Ibteo bo the patter 

CH lite sofi raio oveiheadi 

Every tinkle on the sMngka 

Has an echo in the heart; 
And a thousand dreamy fandqs 

Into busy being start, 
And a thousand recollections 

Weave their air-threads into woof. 
As I listen to the patter 

Of the lain upon the rooL 

Now in roemory comes my mother, 

As she used, in years agone. 
To regard the darling dreamers 

Ere she left them till the dawn; 
And I feel her fond look on me. 

As I hst to this refrain 
Which is played upon the shingles 

By the patter of the rain. 

Then my h'ttle swajA aster, 

With her wings and waving hair, 
And her star-eyed dWrub biothef™ 

A serene angehc pair— ^ 
Glide around my wakeful pillow, 

With their praise or mild (eprodf. 
As I listen to the murmur 

Of the soft rain on ttie roof. 

And another comes, to thrill roe ' 

With her eyes' delicious blue; 
And I mind not, musing on her, i 

That her heart was all untrue: 
I remember but to love her 

With a passion kin to pain, , 
And my heart's qukk pulses vibratp . 

To the patter of the rain. 


^fioi. Poems of Youth and Age 

Art hath naught of tone or cadence ■' 

That can work with such a spell' 
In the soul's mysteriouB fountains, ' 

Whence the tears of rapture well, 
As that melody of nature, 

That subdued, subduing strain 
Which is played upon the shingles 

By the patter of the rain. 

CoalK Kiitmey [1816-1904] 


Hebe, in my snug little firc-Iit chainber. 

Sit I alone: 
And, as I gaze in the coals, I reraember 

Days long agone. 
Saddening it is when the night has descended, 

TTius to sit here. 
Pensively musing on episodes ended 

Many a year. 

Still in my visions a golden-haiied glory 

tlits to and fro; 
She whom 1 loved— but 'tis just the old story: 

Dead, long ago. 
'Tis but a wraith of love; yet I linger 

(Thus passion errs), 
Foolishly kissing the ring on my &Bger — 

Once it was hers. 

Nothing has changed ance her spiril <lei»4rted, 

Here, in this room 
Save I, whd, weary, artd half broken-hearted. 

Sit in the ^oom. 
Loud 'gainst the window the winter rain dashes 

Dreary and cold; 
Over the floor the red fire-light tkshos 

Just as of tM. 


The Old Man Dreams 461 

Just as of old — but the embers are scattered, 

Whose ruddy blaze 
Flashed o'er the floor where the fairy Ieelrpatt«red 

In other days! 
Hien, her dear voice, hke a silver chime rin^png, 

Often xjioed her singing. 

Why jght but sorrow, I wonder? 

Time lalei, must sunder 

Years have rolled by; I am wiser uid eider — 

Wiser, but yet 
Not tin my heart and its feelings grow colder. 

Can I foiget. 

So, in my snug little fire-Jit chamber, 

Sit I alone; 
And, as I ga^e in the oxiIg, I remember 

Days long agonc! 

GMTge Armnid [1SJ4-1S65I 


Oe for one hour of youthful joyl 
Give back my twentieth spring! 

I'd rather laugh, a bright -ha ire<l boy. 
Than reign, a gray-beard king. 

Off with the spoils of wrinkled age! 

Away with Learning's crown! 
Tear out life's Wisdom -writ ten page. 

And dash its trophies down! 

One moment let my life-blood stream 
From boyhood's fount of flame! 

Give me one giddy, reeling dream 
Of life all Iqve and fame! 


' 462 Poertis of Youth and Age 

My listening angel heard 'the prayer, ' ■ ' 
And, calmly smiling, said, 
■ "If I but touch thy silvered half, 
Thy hasty wi^ hath sped. ■■ ' 

"But is there nothing io thy track 
. To bid thee fondly stay, ■ ' 

While the swift seasons hurry bade ' 
To find the wished-for day?" 

"Ah, truest soul of womankind!,' ■ I 
Without thee what were li(e? 

One bliss I cannot leave bdwnd: - ' i 
rUtake — my— precious— Wifef 

The angel took a sapphire pen 

And wrote in rainbow dew, f .. ■ 
The man would be a boy again. 
And be a kusband, loot 

"And 'i& there nothing yet noaiud, 1 
Before the changd appears? ■ ■ ' 
I • Remember, all their gifts have fled 
With those dissolving years." 

"Why, yes;" foi- memdVywouAd recall 

My fond paternal jpys; .. , 

"I could not bear to leave tbein all — 

ni take—my— girl— and— boys," , 

The smiling angel dropped hb pen,- 
■" Why, this will never do; 1 

The man would be a boy again. 
And be a father, tool". 

And so I laughed,~my laughter woke 

The household with its noise,- 
And wrote my dream, when morning broke. 

To please the gray-haired boys. 

mvefWendta Selihts iiSo9-i&9t] 





With pensive eyes the litUe rpom I view, 

Where, in my youth, I weathered it so lonq; \ 
With a wild mistress, f- stanch friend or t,no. 

And alight beart still breaking into spng: 
Making a mock of life, and all its cares. 

Rich in the glory of my rising sup. 
Lightly I vaulted up four pair of stairs, 

In the brave days nfaeo I was twoBtyinife. 

Yes; 'tis, a garret— lot.him know't who will— 

There was my bed~-fuU bftrd it was aAd small; 
My table there — and I decipher still 

Half a lame couplet charcoaled on' the wall. 
Ye joys, that Time hath swept with him away. 

Come to mine eyes, ye dreams of We and fun; 
For you I pawned my wdtch how many a day, 

In the brave ^ys when I was twenty-KioC' 

And sAe my little Jessy, first of all; 

She comes with pouting lips and sparkling eyes: 
Behold, how roguishly she pins her shawl 

Across the narrow casement, curtain-wise; 
Now by the bed her petticoat glides down. 

And when did woman look the worse in hone? 
I have heard since who paid for many a gown. 

In the biave days when I was twcnty-o^e. 

One Jolly eveolug, when my friends and 1 

Made happy music with our songs and cheers, 
A shout of triumph mounted up thus high, 

And distant cannon opened on our ears: 
We rise,^we join in the triumphant strain, — 

Napoleon conquers— Austertitz is won— 
Tyrants shall never tread us down ag^', 

In the brave days when I was twenty-one. 
* For the original o( this poem see page 3830- 

p:hy Google 

; 4$4 Poems of Youth and Age 

Let U8 begone — the place b sad and strange — 

How far, far o£f, these happy times appear; 
All thai I have to live I'd gladly change 

For one such month as I have wasted here — 
To draw long dreams of beauty, love, and power, 

From founts of hope that never will outrun, 
And drink all life's quintessence in an hour, 

Give me the days when I was twenty-One! 

Wiiliam Makepeace Thackeray ligii-ig63l 


-ShodU) auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to min'? 
Sbonld auld acquaintance be forgot. 
And days o' lang syne? 

For auld lang syne, my dear, 

For auld lang syne, ^ 

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld lang syne. 

- We twa hae rin about the braes. 
And pu'd the gowans fine; 
But we've wandered moniea weary fit 
Sin' auld lang syne. 

Wc twa bae paidl't i' the bum, 

Frae momin' sun till dine; 
fiut sens between us braid hae roared 

Sin' {luld lang syne. 

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere. 

And gie's a hand o' thine; 
And we'll tak a right guid willl^wau^t 

For auld lang syne. 

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, 

And surely I'll be mine, 
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 

For auld lang synel 

Rabert Bumi \ns9-^l9ti 


Rock Me To Slt^ ,465 



No other trorsliip abides and endores, — 
Faithful, iiHMlfish, and patient, like jiQUrs: 
None £ke a mother can f^rm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. 
Slumber's aoft cahns o'er my heavy Uds creep;— 
Rock me to aleep, mother, — rock me to^eepl 

Come, let your.browiL hair, just lifted with gold, 
Fall on your shoukleiB again as.trf old; 


'4^ Pdems of 'YouA and 'Age 

Let it drop over my forehead to-night, 
Shading niy faint eyes aWay fronilthe light; 

. For with its sunny-edged shadows once ^ore 
' "tiaply will throng the sweet visions bf yor^;" _ 
Lovingly, softly, its bright bUlowa swetp;— ;'; 
Kock me to sleiep, mother, — rock me to steepT 

Mother, dear mother, the years have'fceen bihg 
Since I last listened your lullaby songi 
Sing, theii, and unto my soul it shall seem' 
Womanhood's years have beeil only'i dreai&/ 

THE BUCKET' ■ ': . .'/ 
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my cfiUdHood, 


That moss-covered voasel I hailed as a treasWT, ■ 

For often at noon, when retuf;ne4 frppfi li)a fipld^ 
I found it'the source of aft eiquisite; pleasure, | \ 

The puristand sweetest Uwtnatuw i;aayi?li ■ 
Howaedent I.seiaed it, with hands th^t werf glfl^ns- 

And quick to the.white-pebblBd.^ttorwitifeUi- 
Theaaoon, with the «mWqin of . tryth overflo^pft 

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well— 
T^ftM oaken bdcket^ the iKMi-bdirad bucket, 1 
The moss-co%lered bucket arose 4nm ihe well' 1 


The Grape-Vine Swing 467 

How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it. 
As poised on the curb it iffdined to my lips! 


While a maiden sits in thy drooping fold. 
And swings and sings in tht noonday shade! 

giant strange of our Southern woods! 

I dream of thee bHII in the w^Il-tnown 4p<«, ' ■ ' ' 
Though our vessel strains o'er the ocean flood^i 
And the Northern fdrest beholds thee not j "'■ ■■ ' 

1 think of thee still itith a sweet regret, ■ . . "> 
As (he cordage yields Co my playful grasp,-^ ■'■ ■' 

Dost thou spring and cling in our woodlands yet? 
Does the maiden stiB swing in thy giant clasp? 

' WaHaitt Gilmdrt Simths- liSo6-^i8ioi 


4^9 Po^ms of Youth wnd Age 


OhI the old swim m in '-hole! whare the crick so stilt and deep 
Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, 
And the gurgle of the wortcr round the drift jist below 
Sounded like the laugh of something we onc't ust to know 
Before we could remember anything but the eyes 
Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise; 
But the merry days of youth is beyond our controle; 
And it's hard to part ferever with the old swimmin'-hole. 

Oh! theoldswimmitk'-hole! In the happy days of yore. 

When I ust to lean above it on the oW sickamorc, 

Oh! it showed me a face in its wann sunny tide 

That gazed back at me so gay and glorified, 

It made me love myself as I leaped to caress 

My shadder smilin' up at me with sich tenderness. 

But them days is past and gone, and old Time's tuck his toll 

From the old man come back to the old swimmin'-hole. 

Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! In the long, tezy days 
When the hum-drum of school made so many nin-i-ways. 
How pleas; lown the old dusty lane, 

Whare the et was all printed sp plane 

You could e heel and ihe sole 

They was I : the old swimmin'-hole. 

But the lo! ^our tears in sorrow roll 

Like the ra up the old swimmin'-hole. 

Thare the bulrushes growcd, and the cattails so tall, 

And the sunshine and shadder Tell over it all ; 

And it mollled the worter with amber and gold 

Tel the glad lilies rocked in the rjpplcs that rolled; 

And the saakc-fecder's tour gauzy wings fluttered by 

Like the ghost of a daisy dropped out of the sky, 

Or a wownded apple-blossom ia the breeze's controle 

As it cut acrost some orchurd lo'rds the old swim nun '-bole. 

Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! When I last saw the place, 
The scenes wai all changed, like (he change in my face; 


' Forty Years Ago ' 4.69 

The bridge of the railroad now crosses Ihe spot 

Whare the old divin'log lays sunk and fergot. 

And T'dtray down the banks whare the trees list to be^' 

But never again will theyr shade shelter me! 

And I wish in my sorrow I could strip to the soul, 

Add dive off in my grave lilce the old swimmin'-hole. 

James Wkltcomb Riley ti8s'~i5ifi| 

I've wandered to the village, Tom, I've sat beaeath the tree, 
Upon the schoolhouse playground, that' sheltered yoM and 

ys ex play 
list as'gajL 
oated o'er 

The o(d schoolhouse is altered some; the benches are' re- 
placed i 

By Dew ones, very like the same our jackknivcs once defaced; 

But the same old brkks are in the wall, the boll swings to 
and fro; 

Its music's just tbe same, dear Tom, 'twas forty yeare ago. 

The boys were playing some old game, beneath that same 

eld tree; ■ ' 

\ have forgot the name just now— you've played the same 

with me. 
On that same spot; 'twas played with knives, by throwing 

The loser h^d a ta^ to do, there, forty years ago. . 

The river's running just as still; the willows on its tadp 

Are larger than they were, Tom; the stream appears less 


470 Poems of youth opd Age 

But the grape-vine swing is nuDet] now, yrha^. onoq we 
played the beau, , , ■ 

And snyui^ our sweethearts— pretty girisv-just forty jjjeare 

The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill, close by the ^^ad- 

ing beech, 
Is very low — ^'twaa then so high that we could scarcely 

And, kneeling down to get a drink, deax Tom, I Started S9, 
To see how sadly I am changed since forty yeBirs agp. 

Ntar by that spring, upon aa elm, you know I cut your nsRH, 
Vour sweetheart's just beneath it, Tom, and you did mine 

the same; 
Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark, 'twas dying sure 

but slow. 
Just as she died, whose name you cut, some forty years 


My lids have long been dry, Tom, but tears came to. my 

I thought of her 1 loved so well, those early broken ties ; 
I visited the old churchyard, and took some flowers to 

Upon the graves of tbos«« we loved some forty, yeariagoi 

Some are in the churchyard laid, some gleet) beneath the xa. 
And none are left of our old class, excepting you and me; 
But when our time shall come, Tom, aod we aoecaUcd toga, 
I hope we'll meet with those we loved some forty yeftis ago. 
Francis Hiuton (iS - , 


Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt. — 

Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown. 
Who wept with delight when you gave hei; a smile, 

And trembled with fear at your frown? 


In the old churchyard in the valley, Ben Bolt, 

In a-qjfper o^cur? 9^nA. plone, t ■ 
They have fitted a slab of the granite so gray, 

And Alice lies under the stone. ' 

UnderChe hlckoiytice, Ben Boh, ' • 

Which stood U the food of Ihehfll, 
Tc^ther we 'vc lain in the noonday shade. 

And listened to Applttdn 's mfU. ' ' 

The ihiil-nbeel haa fslleh to pieces, Ben Bolt, 

The rafters have tumbled in, ' 

And a quiet nbidi ciwbk'round the frails as you ga^ 

Has foUowed the olden din. 

And of all the boys who were schoolmates then 
There are only you and I. 

Iliere is change in the things I loved, Ben Bolt, 

They have changed from the old to the new; 
But I feel in the deeps of my spirit the truth. 

There never was change in you. 
Twelvemonths twenty have passed, Ben Bolt, 

Since first we were friends — yet I hail 
Your presence a blessing, your friendship a truth, 

Ben Bolt of the salt-sea gale. 

Thomas Dnnn English [iSiq-i^oiI 

p:hy Google 

47* Poems of Youth and Age 


Break, break, break, 

On thy cold gny stones, O Sea! 
And I would that my tongue cmdd utber 

The thougjits that ariae in me. 

O, well for the lisbennaB 's boy, 

That he shouts witli his aiatEr at pisyl 

O, well for the sailor lad, 
That he nnga in his boat on the bayl 

And the stately ^ips go on. 

To their haven under the hill; 
' But O for the touch of a vani^ied hand,' 
And the sound of a voice that is stilll ' 

Break, break, break. 

At the loot of thy crags, O Sea! 
But the tender grace of a day that is dead 

Will never come back to me. 

Alfred Tennyson [iSoo-iSga] 





The sense of the world is short, — 
Long and various the report, — 

To love and be beloved; 
Men and gods have not outleamed it; 

And, how oft soe'er they've turned it, 
'Tis not to be improved. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson [iSo 



Now what is Love, I pray thee, tell? 
It is that fountain and that well , 

Where pleasure amd repentance dwell; 
It is, perfiapi, the saundng bell 
That tolls all into heaven or bell; 
And this is Love, as I bear tdi. 

Yet, sbei^erd, wb«t is hcsv&, I pray? 
It is a yes, it is a nay, 
A pretty kind of 4>ortiiig bay. 
It is a thing will soon away. 
Then, nymphs, take vaatage irtiile ye may; 
And tUt is Love, as I hear say. 

p:hy Google 

476 Poems of Love 


From ■■ Chrut's Victoiy " 

Love is the blossom where there blows 
Every thing that lives or grows; 
Love doth make the Heavens to move, 
And the Sun doih burn in love : 
Love the strong and weak doth yoke, 
And makes the ivy climb the oak. 
Under whose shadows lioni wild, 
Softened by love, grow tame and mild; 
Love no medicine can appeese, 
He burns lishcs in the seas; 
Npt iUl the skill his wounds can stench, 
Not all the sea his fire can quench. 
Love did make the bloody spear 
Once a leavy coat to wear, 
While in his leaves there shrouded lay 
Sweet birds, for love that sing and play 
And of all love 's joyful flame 
I the bud and blossom am. 

Only bend (hy knee to me. 

Thy wooing shall thy winning be! 

See, see the flowers that below 
Now as fresh as morning blow; 
And of aU the virgin rose 
That as bright Aurora sbows; 
How they all unlcavM die, 
Losing their virginity! 
Like unto a summer shade. 
But now bom, and now they £ada. 
Every thing doth pass away; 
There is danger in delay: 

Gather it 

All the sa 
Into roy ' 
m the vi 
To ray h< , , 


Rosalind's Madrigal 

Every grape of every vine 
Is gladly bruised to make me wine: 
While ten thousand kinp, as proud, 
To cany up my train have bowed, 
And a world of ladies send me 


Doth suck his sweet: 
Now with his wings he plays with me, 

Now with his feet. 
Within mine eyes he makes hb nest. 
His bed amidst my tender breast; 
My kisses are his daily feast, 
And yet he robs me of my rest: 

Abl wuiton, will ye? 

And if I sleep, then percheth he 

With pretty fli^t, 
And makes his piUow of my knee 

The livelong night. 
Strike I my lute, he tunes the string; 
He muse {days if so I sing; 
He lends me every lovely thing, 
Yet cruel he my heart doth sting: 

WUst, wanton, stiU ye! 

Else I with roaes every day 

Will whip you hence, 
And bind you, when you long to play, 

For your <£ence. 


478 ' Poems' of Love 

1 'U shut mine eyes to keep yoa in; I 
I'll make you fast it for your sin; 
I 'B count yotii power not vorth a pin. 
— Alas I w*at hereby shall I win 
If he gainsay meP 

What if I beat the wanton boy 

With many a rod? 
He will repay me with annoy, 

Because a god. 
Then sit thou safely on my knee; 
Then let thy bower my bosom be; 
Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; 
O Cupid, so thou: pity me, 

Spare not, but play thee! 

Thomat Lodge lissif-i6is\ 


From " Hymen's Tliompb " 

Love is a sickness full of woes, 

All remedies refusing; 
A plant that with most cutting grows. 
Most barren with best using. 
More we enjoy it, more it diss; 
If not enjoyed, it sighinK cries — 
Heigh bo! 

Love is a torment of the mind, 

A tempest evwlasting; 
And Jove hath made it of a kind 
Not well, nor fuUTWr fasting. 
Why so? 
More we enjoy it, more it dies; 
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries—' 

Samutai»iei I1S61-1619I 


Venus' Runawayi +791 

LOVE'S iPERJtlRIES , , ,; 

Finn) "Love's LabortLort" 

On a day, alack the dayl 
Love, whose mouth is ever May, 
Spied a blossom passing fair 
Playing in the wanton air; 
Through the velvet leaves, the wind. 
All unseen, 'gan passage find; 
That the lover, sick to death, 
Wished himself the heaven's breath. ^ 
Air, qiioth he, thy checks may blow; 
Air, would I might triumph so! . 
But, alack, my hand is sworn 
Ut'eT to pliick thee from thy tliom: , 
Vow,. alack, for youth unmeet; 
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet. 
Do not call it sin inmc 
That I am forsworn for thee: 
Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear' 
Juno but an Ethiope were, , 
And deny himself for Jove, 
Tiuning mortal tor thy love. 

William Shakesffafe \ls^-i 

VENUS' RUNAWAY ■ ' ■ ' i 

From'-TheHuesmJCry Alter Cupid" ' '_ 

Bemties, have ye^een'this toy, , 7 
CallM Love, a little boy, 
Almost naked) wanton, blindi 

Cruel now, apd th«n as kind? , '/ 

n he be amoQgat ye, sayi' | 

He is Venus' run^w^y, , / 

She that i«ill but i^o^v discover / 
Where the wingfel wag doth hover. 
Shall Uhnight E«ceive a kies, 
How 01 wberelMaseU weuld wiib: ' >". 


480 Poems of Love 

But who brings him to his mother, 
Shall have that kiss, and anotba. 

He doth bear a golden bow, 
And a quiver, hanging low, 
Full of arrows, that outbrave 
Dian's shafts; where, if he have 
Any head more sharp than other, 
With that first he strikes his mother. 

Still the fairest are his fuel. 
When his days are to be cruel. 
Lovers' hearts arc all his food, 
And his baths their wannest blood: 
Naught but wounds his hands doth season. 
And he hates none like to Reason. 

Trust him not; his words, though sweet, 
Seldom with his heart do meet. 


Whatf is Love ^' 4^4. 

AD Me ptactlcc is deceit; < > :. 
Every gift il IB a bait; / 

Not a kiss bat poisom bnis; - 
And^oettiNsoDin his teus.i 1 

Idle minutes are his reign;.' 

And that he's Veflus" runaway. - 

■ Bai Joni«n'lisTif-it>ij\ 


From " Tin CantulD " 

Tell mc;n«rc, are women tnic? 
Yes, some are, and some as you. 
Some are willing, some arc strange. 
Since you men first taught to cbaiige. 

Awdtili troth 

AU shall love, to love aoew. 


4.841 Poems ' of Love 

Tell me more yet, can thoy grieve? 
Yes, and sickea »re, but Ih*, > 
And be wise, and delay. 
When you men are wise as they. ■ 

Then I see, 

Faith will be 
Never till they both believe. 

Joim Fktdur \iS79-i6is] 


FMm " Vdnti^U " 

Now the lusty spring is seen; 
Golden yellow, gaudy blue, , 
I>aJnti]y invite the view: 
Everywhere on evejy green 
Roses blushing aa they blow. 
And enticing men to pull. 
Lilies whiter than the snow, 
Woodbines of sweet honey full: 
All love's emblems, and all cry, 
" Ladies, if not plucked, we die." 
Yet the lusty ^ring hath stayed; 
Blushing red and purest white 
Daintily to love invite 
Every woman, every maid: 
Cherries kissing as they grow, 
And inviting men to taste, 
Apples even ripe below, 
Winding gently to the waist: 
All love's emblems, and all cry, 
"Ladies, if not plucked, we die," 

John FUtcher Us79->6'S] 


From " VafcnliBiMi " 

Heab, ye ladies that despise 
What the mighty Lave has done; 

Fear examples and be wise: 
Fair Callisto WB& a nun; 


Advice' to a LoVtr 4^3 

Leda, sailing on the stream 
To deceive the bopts of mkn, ' 

AltLoug^ bis goal be grteh--^ 

Love's Martyr, wfacn his teat » pait* : 

Proves Can't Confessor at ths ladt. 


p:hy Google 

484t ' PoeiiiSi of . Love '' 


If those sharp rays, putting on . , 

Points of deajj], bid Love be gone; — 
lliough the heavens in council sate 
To crown an uncontroE^d fate; I 

Though their best a^iects twined upw! 
The kindest bonstdlatian, 
Cast amorous glances on its birth,' 
And r whispered the confederate earth 
To pave bis paths with all the good 
That wamis the bed of youth and blood ;— 
Love has no plea against her eye; 
Beauty frowns, and Love must die. ^ 

But if her milder infiuonoB move, ' 
And gild the hopes of hiteble Love ;-v . 
Tbough heavu'ainauipiciouaejx - ' 
Lay blsck on Love's nativity; 


"Ah. How Sweet It Is To Love" ,4^5 

Tbov^ every diamond in Jove's crown 
Fixed his forehead to a frown,— 
Her ^e a strong appeal can give, 
Beauty smiles, and Love sliall live.' ' ^ 

O, if Leve tbaU live, iriiere, 

Than all otlieT pleasures ate. 

Sighs which are fiom lovers blown ^ 
Do but gently heave the heart: 

Even tlw tearilht^ shed alone . 1 
Cure, like trickling balm, their smart : 

Lovers, when they lose theli biealih, : 

Bleed away in easy desth.- '■ • • 

Love and Tline wish revotnoe use, 1 
Treat them like ^parting fricbd; 

Nor the gfM«n glftb telusc ' 

Which in yoic^ riiwefti they send: 

p:hy Google 

486 ' I ■ Poems of Love ,' .■ . 

For eadi ytax their price is .moMv- 1 
And (hey lees simple than beftife.. 

Love, like spring-tides full and high. 

Swells in every youthful vein; 
But each tide does less supply,' ' 
/ Till they quite shrink in again :,i.', 

r' If a flow in Agp appear, 

Tis but raui, and inns not deai. ■ 

John Drydtn I11631- 

Aod in rough weather tossed; 
They wither under cold delays, 
Or are in tempests lost. 

One while they seem to touch the port, 

Then straight into the main ■' - ' 
Some angry wind, in cruel sport, ' 

The vessel drives again. 

■■ ,7 
At first Dtsdniu and Pride they fea«, ■ 

Which if they chance to 'scape, . , 
Rivals and Falsehood soon appear, 

In a more dreadful shape. 

By such degrees to joy they comeL, 

And u6 so long withstood. 
So slowly they receive the sun. 

It hardly does them good, 

'TIS cnid to pEolong « pftin; 

Aod to defer a joy, , 

Believe me, gentle CetcRKiDiet 

(Mends the wingdd boy. 


■ Song, 1^87 

An hundred thousand oaths your fears. 

Perhaps, would not, remove; 
And if I gazed a thousand years, 

I could not deeper love. 

Charles Sedky [lejo?-"?"! 


The wine of Love is music. 

And the feast of Love is aonf.i . 
And when Love sits down to the baoviet. 

Love sits long: 

Sits long and arises drunken, 
But not with the feast and the wine; 

He reeleth with his own heart. 
That great, rich 'vine. 

Jama Tkomm [4834-1883I 


lat note 

lath chatted me. 

larmcd mer 
doth come,— 

Of all delight. 
I have no other choice 
Either for pen or voice 
To sing or write. 

love, they wrong thee mach 
That say thy sweet i& bitter 

When thy rich fruit is such 

As nothing can be sweeter. 
Fair house of joy and bliss 
Where truest pleasure is, 
I do adore thee: 

1 tnow thee what thou ut, 
I aerr^ thee with'iny heart, 

And faU befote thee. 


488 Poems of Love 


Cupid once upon a bed ' ' 

Of roses laid his weary head; 

Luckless urchin, not to see 

Within the leaves a slumbering bee. 

The bee awaked — with anger wild 

The bee awaked, and stung the child. 

Loud and piteous are his cries; 

To Venus quick he runs, he fliesj - I 



Thus he spoke, and'ske the while 


T'other day, as 1 was twining 
Roses, for a trowh Iodine in, ,1) 
What, oEi all things, 'mid the heftp. 
Should I li^t on, fast adeep, •; , ,7 
But the little de^temte elf, , 

The liny traitor, Love, himself!. 
By the wings I picked him up 
Like a bee, and in a cup >: i 

Of my wineljduBgedandealiklufl^ I 
Then what d'yeithinkll didf-i-l.dran)L him. 
Faith, I thought ,bibi dead. Not he! 
There he lives with ten-fold glee; 


"In the'Day* of Old" 439. 

And now this moment With he ^Jnings 
I feel bim tickling nty heart-stritfgs. 

Oh! say not woman's false as fair, 

That like the bee she ranges! 
Still seeking flowers more sweet and rare, 

As fickle fancy ithanges. . , ' li 

Ahl no, the love that fiist can wana 

WiU I^ve her boson never; .. // 

No second pnssioa e'er can cb^rm, ' ..,{ 

She loves, and loves ior ever. 

ThotHO) l/me Peacock Wiis^\i6t\ 


Pnun " DMcIkI CMtk " 

In the days of old . | 

Loven felt true passioji, 

Deeming yearp of Borrow 

By a smile repaid: 

Now thecliflTms of gold, 

SpeUs of pride and fashion, - ' 

Bid them say Good-n 

To the best-loved Maid. 

Through the forests wild, ' 
O'er the mountains lonely, 
ITiey were never weaiy 
Honor to pursue : 


Poems of Love 

If the damsel smiled 
Once in seven yeus only, 
All theit wanderings dreary 
Ample guerdon knew. 


How delidous is the winning 
Of a kiss at Love 's beginning. 
When two mutual hearts are sighing 
For the knot there's no untyingi 

Yet remember, 'midst your wooing. 
Love has bliss, but Love has ruing; 
Other smiles may make you fickle, 
Tcara for other charms may trickle. 

Love he comes, and Love he tarries. 
Just as fate or fancy carries; 
Longest stays, when sorest chidden; ■ 
Laughs and fUes, when pressed and bidden. 

Bind the sea to dumber stilly, 
Bind its odor to the lily, 
Bind the aspen ne'er to quiver, 
Then bind Love to Ust forever! 

Love's a fire that needs renewal 

Of fresh beauty for its fuel: 

Love's wing moults when caged and captured, 

Only free, he soars enraptured. 




Can you keep tk bee {rom n^nging, 
Or the lingdovc's neck imtti changing? 
No! nor fettered Love from dying 
In the knot there's no untying. 

Tk»iMa Campbdi |i777->Si4l 

When lovers parted' 
Feel brcken-hearted, 
And, ail bapea thwarted, 

Expect to die; 
A few yeara older, 
AL[ how mudi colder 
They might behold her 
. For whom they sighl 
When linked together, 
In iBvery weather, 
They pluck Love 's feather 

From out his wing- 
He 'II stay for ewr, 
But tadty shiver ;. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of. Love 

Without his pJumage, < 
Wbeo post the ^riog, 

Like Chiefs of Fictiaat <i 
His life is action^ 
A formal paction 

That curbs his retga, 
Obscure^ his glory, 
Despot no more, he 
Sudi territory 

Quits with disdsiilL 
Still, sttU advancing, 
With banners ^nmg. 
His power enhancing, 
■ He miist move OB— ' 
RefKBe but cloys him. 
Retreat destroys him, 
Ixwrt liKpoks not a ■ 

Degraded throne. 

"Waft not, fond loverl 
Till yeare are over, ' 
And then recover, 

As from a dream. 
While each bewailing 
The other's failing. 
With wrath and raifingi 

All hideous seem— 
WWIe first decreasing. 
Yet not quite ceasing. 
Wait not till teasing 

All passion blight: 
If once diminidied 
Love's reign is flhished— 
,Then part in friendship,— 

And bid good-ni^t: 

So Shalt Affection • 
To recollection ' 
The dear Connection ' 


"They 'S^eafcO' WHes" 49J 

. - 'Briiig back with Joy: i : 
You bod not waited' I 

■ Taf/iittdorhttod, I 

Your piassiOBS 'Wteei 

They "speak o' wilts in vi 

I ken they bring a panfj at ■whikd 
Thaf's unco" s4tr to <Jipee ; ■ 

p:hy Google 

Poems of. Love.- ; - 

But mind yii tins tbe baUMfen kiss, 

Tlie first fond Wia' tear, . 
Is, heaven keta, iv' snflset aEtmids, 

An' tints o' btaven here. 

When two leal hearts in fondness meet, 
Life's tempests howl in vain; 

The very tears o' love are sweet 
When paid with tears again. 

Shall hapless prudence shake Its pow? 

Shall cauldrife caution fear? 
Oh, dinna, dihna droun the loWe 

That lights a heaven'here! 


Over the mouAtafau ' ' 

And over the waves, ' ' 
Vrider the foantlnns 

And under the graves, 
Under floods that ape deepen. 

Which Neptune obey. 
Over rocks that are iteepnH', 

Love will find owt the why. 

Where thoe is i>o,piace 

For the glew-wonn to lie. 
Where tbsre e tto space 

For receipt of » fly, 
Where the midge dares not venture, 

Lest herself fast she lay. 
If Love come, he will enter. 

And find out the way, 

" Ybii may qsteem him . 
A child for his migbc, 
Or you may d^em tdm 
A cowBKl .from his SigjbU 


A Woman's Sfaoitcbmings 49;^ 

But iEfihewI)6Di Lowe dotbWKir . 

Be coBceaietf ^'''"i 1^ *^y> 
Set a thaustnd guards upon bnr. 

Love will find out tbe vag. . 

Some tbink to lose hint. 
By having him confined, ' 

And some do suppose him, ' 

Poor thing, to be blind; 
But if ne'er so dose ye wall him, 

Do the best that you may, ■ 
Blind Love, if so ye call him, 

Will find out the way. i 

Vou may train the eagle 

To stoop to your fist, 
Or you may invei^e 

The phoenix of the east ; 
Tile tiger, ye may move her ' 

To give over her prey; 
But you 11 ne'er stop a lover — ' ' ' 

He will find out the way. ' ' 


She has bughed as softly as if she ^ghed. 

She has county six, and over. 
Of a pu^ well filled, aud a heart well tried— 

Oh, each a worthy lover! . 
They "give her time"; for her sold must slip 

Where the world has set the grooving; 
She will lie ,to pone with her fpir red Ijp; 

But love seeks truer loving. 

SStetremUc^her fan ina swectneBs.dtutb, 
As her thoogbts wen beyond njcalEng; 

With- a' glaitce f<x ent, and a glance for some, 
Ftom her eyelids, risiiig and iaUatg; 

p:hy Google 

W^ Poemis of Lovie ' /. 

Speaks ountnon woHs with a bhuhful air, 

Hears bold words, imrepTOviDgi 
But her eJknce" says— what abe never iw31 swear — 

And love aedts betwr loving. 

Go, ladyl lean to tine oight-guitat, 

And drop a uuiie to the bringer; 
Then smile as sweetly, when he is £ar, , 

At the voice oC an in-door singer. 
Bask tejidei'ly beneath lender eyes; ,;] 

Glance lightly, on their removing; 
And join ne.w vows to old perjuri^ — ■ 

But dare not call it loving! 

Unless you c 

No other i: 
Unless you c 

That all n: 
Unless you c: «ath, 

That your 
Unless you c 

Oh, [ear to 

iTntess you can muse in a crowd all day 

On the absent face that fined you; 
Unless you can love, as the angels may, 

With the breadth o£ heaven bettnixf y<Ai; 
Unless you can dream that his faith is fasf, 

Through behoving and unbehovitig; ' /_ 
Unless you can die when the dream is pasi— ^ 

Oh, never call it loving! 

Elizabeth Barren Brmi'mng [iAo6-i85i! 


From "To My Son" 

'Lov^hatba language (oraUyfiaa-^.v 

- 'F«nd'hierDglyphs,obBt:weand(»ld/7- 

< Wherdn the heart reads, writ:iii teaH,// 

Tfac ufe which nsvei yeH'ma taldjl 



Love hsth Us ORtiJr lea, tD.lraoe 

Those bemida winch navtc.ycLfrare given,— 
To measure tinrb wkic^ noc^atapacef 

Is deep as death, and }iigh as beaii^n. 

Love bath hfe treasure hoanfe,'topay 
True faith, or goodly service done, — ' 

Dear priceless nothings, which outweigh 
All riches that the sun shines on.- ■ '■ 

>/4m 5(Mm £iWr*dEin [1S07-1 

O, LET the solid ground. 

Not fail beneath my feet , 
Before my life has found ^ 

What some have found, so sweet; 
Then let come what come may, 
Wlwt matter if I go inad, 
I shall have had my day, , , 

L£t tI^3Weet,hea.v«npciKU(rer, a 

Not close ud'dai!kep abqw me 

Before I am (mite qHita sue, 1 

Ttwt J^h«¥ is one to JovB m«l 
Thenl^tconeiWhat come may. . 
To a, life that h^bceas> sad,,! 
I shall have baid my d^y.- . ; ; 

, , Aifred TfoiiytiOit [iSog-iSt)i] 

■- AtfATURlJS ■ '■ 

-■■ . ., ■-.■■,/ 

SOUEWHERE beneath the sun, 

These quivering heariTstrings ppjye it. 
Somewhere there must be one ,' 

Made for this soul fo move it; . 

p:hy Google 

498 Poems of -Love 

Some one that hides her svnttatad .< ■ 
From neighbors wbom Bfacsligjita« ' 

Nor can attaio completeness, 
Nor give her heart its nglHs; " I 

Some one whom I could court 

Gets ovemear to doting; 
Keen lips, that shape soft saying^ 

Like crystals of the snow, ■ 
With pretty half-betntyin^ 

Of things one may not khofr; 
Fair hand whose toudies thriH, 

Like eidd«i rod of wonder, 
Which Hemes widds at wiU 

Spirit and flesh to sunder; 
Light foot, to press the stirrup 

In fearlessness and glee. 
Or dance, tilifinctfes c^irnip. 

And stars sink to the sea. 
Forth, Love, and find this maid, 

Wherever she be hiddco: 
Speak, Love, be not afraid, ~ , 

But plead as thou art bidden; 

p:hy Google 

A BatloA of D»a»iland 49$ 

And s»y, do^ he vb» taigbt ihoe 1 

Hu yearoiig want and pain. 
Too dearly, dearly bought thee 

To pait widi tbee in vain. 


Nor heed the alow years bnngmg 

A harsher voice; 
Because the songs ^rtiicb be has sung 
Still leave the untouched singer young. 

But whom in fuller fashion ■ ■ , .. 

The Master sways, 
For him, swift-winged with passion. 

Fleet the brief days. 
Befimes the enforced accents come, 
And leave him ever after dumb. 

Lewis Morris [1833-1007) 


I HD) my heart! in a nest of roses, 

Out of the sun's way, hidden apart; 
In a softer bed then the soft white snow's is, 

Under the roses I hid my heart. 

Why would it sleep not? why should It start, 
■When never a leaiof the rtse^trec stirred? 

Wh»t.ihade'deep fluttes bi3 mtigs and part? 
(My the son^of a seoet bird. ■■ ' 



PtartiB of JjOV*! 

Lie still, I said, for tliewmd's wintdows, 

And mild leaves muffle the, keen -sua '>: dart; 

Lie still, for the wind oa the wann aeaa dwW*, 
And the wind is unquirfer yet thu thOu art. 
■ Does a thought in thee stiU as a thorn's wound smart? 

Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred? 
Wha^ bids the lips of thy sleep dispart? ,^^,, 

Only the song of a secret bird. 

The green land's name that a chann encloses. 
It never was writ in the traveller's chart. 

And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is. 
It never was sold in the merchant's fiiart' 
The swallows of dreams through its dim tklds dart. 

And sleep's are the tunes in its tree-tops hcard^; 
No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart, 

Only the song of a secret bird. 

In the wo'i 

Of true lo' 


TnE rising moon has hid the stars; 

Her level rays, like golden bars, . , 

Lie on the landscape green, ^ 
With shadows brown between. 

And «1ver white the .river gleanis, ; 

As if Diana, in her dreams 

Had dropped her silVer bow 
Upon the meadows low. 


Endymion ■' '■ 'pi 

On such a tranquil ni^t as this, 

She woke Endymipt 'wjth a kiss, 

When, sleeping in the grove, 
He dreamed not of her love. 

Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought. 
Love gives itself, but is not bought; 
Nor voiw, nor sound betrays 
It$ deep, impassioned gaze. 

It comes,— 4he beautiful, the free. 
The crown of all humanity, — 

Id ^eDC*«nd alone 

To seek the elected one. 

It Kits the boughs, whose shadows deep - 

Are life's oblivion, the soul 's sleep. 
And kisses the closed eyes 
Of him who slumbering lies. 

weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! 
O drooping souls, whose destinies 

Are fraught with fear and pain, 

Ye shall be loved again! 

No one is so accursed by fate, 
No one ao utteriy desolate. 

But some heart, though unknown, 

Responds unto his own. 

Responds,— as if with unseen wings, 
An angel touched its quivering strings; 
And whispers, in its song, 
"Where hast thou stayed so (ong?" 
Beury Wadsworlh Lonffdloit/ I1807-1 


JO? Fooms of I-ovc 


Two shall be bora, the whole, wide world apart. 
And speak in different tongues and have no thought 
Each of the other's being, and no heed. 
And these, o'er unknown seas, to unknown lands 

Shall cross, escaping wreck, def}^g death; 
And all unconsciously shape every act 
And bend each wandering step to this one end — 
That, one day, out of darkness they shall meet 
And read life's meaning in taxb other's ^rw- ' 

And two shall walk some Harrow way <A life 

So nearly side by side that, should one turn 

Ever so little space to left or right, 

They needK must stand ackoowkdgedi iaqt tp face. 

And, yet, with wistful eyes that never rmeet ■ 

And groping hands that never da^ aiid Ups 

Calling in vain to eare that never kear. 

They seek each other all their weary days 

And die unsatisfied—and this is Fatel 

Susan Uarr Spalding li& - 7 ] 


Give all to love, 
Obey thy heart; 
Friends, kindred, days, 
Estate, good fame, 
■ Plans, credit, and the Muse,— 
Nothing refuse. 

Tis a brave master; 
Let it have scope: 
Follow it utterly, 
Hope beyond hope: 
High and more high 

p:hy Google 

"Givo AH To Love" 503 

It dtves into noon, 
With wing uupent, 
Untold intent; 
But it is a god. 
Knows its own path 
And the outlets of the sky. 

It was never for the mean; ' ' ' 

Leave all for love; 
Yet, hear me, yet, 
Oae word mace thy heart bdioved. 
One pulee more o* finn endeavor, — 
Keep thee to-di^, 
- To-morrow, forever, 
Free as an Arab 
Of thy beloved. 

Thou^ thov loved het as thysdif, 
As a self of piu« clay. 
Though hei paitlng dims the day, 
Stealing grace from all alive; 

p:hy Google 


•Ptfcms' of Love ■ ■ ' 

Heartily know, '1 

When half-gods gD, '/ 

The gods arrive. ' 

Ralph H'Wdy Emaiim (ISoj-i 

O, LOVE is not a summer mood, 

Nor flying phantom of the brain, 
Nor youthful fever of the blood, 

Nor dream, nor fate, nor circutnstance. 
Love is not bom of blinded chancs, 
Nor bred in simple ignorance. 

Love is the flower of maidenhood; 

Love is the fruit of mortal pain; ' 
And she hath winter in her blood. 

True love is steadfast as thcskks, 
And once ali^, she never flied; 
And love is strong, and love is+'isc. 

■ Rtcfcifrf WalMU Gilder 11844-1009] 


SOWE find Love late, some'firtd'hinl foon, 

Some with the rose in May, 
Some with the nightingale in June, -"'■ ' 

And some when skies are gray; 
Love comes to some with Smiling eytt, ' 

And comes with tears to some; 
For some Love sings, for some Love sighs. 

For some Love's lips are dumb.'"' 

How will you come to me, fair'L<lvo?i' i 
Will you come late or soon? • ' 

With sad or smiling Skies ajxtve, 

By light of sun or moon? ■ . 1 ' 


The Secrer 

' Wfllyoo be sod, wiH you be »eet, : 
Shig, slgli. Love, or be dumb? 
Will it be summer when ve moct, 
n ere you come? 

n Btattj [1S55- 


Lo, all thihgs'wakeancltfirfy and look far thee: 
She Iwkcth and Strith. ''0 sun, now bri*ig him to me. 
Come, more adored, O adftred. ftrhis ctrtning's sake, 
And awake; rtiy heart; t6 be loved, awake, awake! " 
Rebm Bmigt} (iSss- 


NlOBTINCALES watfcle about it 
ATI night under blossoni and Star; 

TTic wild s^van is dying wkhonl it, 
And theeagte cTieth afar; ■■■ ' 

p:hy Google 


Poems of Love 

The sun, be doth mount but to find it, 
Searching the greea earth o'er; 

But more dotti a man's heart mind it — 
O more, more, morel 

Over the gray leagues of ocean 

The infinite yeameth atone; 
The forests with wandering emotion 

The thing they luiow not intone; 
Creation arose but to see it, 

A million lamps in the blue; 
But a lover, he shall be it, 

If one sweet maid is true. 

George Edieard Woodberry [i8ss- 


When Love, our great Immort^, 

Put on mortality, 
And down from Eden's portal 

Brought this sweet lite to be, 
At the sublime archangel 

He laughed with, veiled eyes, 
For he bore within his bosom 

The seed of Paradise. 

He hid it in his bosom. 

And there such narnith it iound. 
It brake in bud and' bloBSOm, 

And tbejiose fell on thegieund; 
As the green light on the prairie, 
, As the red light on the sea. 
Through fragrant belts of summer 

Came this sweet life to be. 

And the 0%ve archangel seeiQftv . 

Spread his mighty wings for, flight. 
But the glow hung round him fleet^ 

Like the loge of an Arctic night; 

p:hy Google 

Love is Strong 

And sadly moving heavenward 
By Venus and by Mars, 

He heard the joyful planets 
Hail Earth, the Rose of Stars. 
Geerge Bduard Woadberry [t. 

Bloom, violets, lilies, and roses! 
But what, young Desire, 


All day long on the highway 
The King's fleet couriers ride; 

You may hear the tread of their horses sped 
Over the country side. 

They ride for life and they ride for death 

And they override who tarrieth. 
With show of color and fiush of pride 
They stir the dust on the highway. 

Let them ride on the highway wide. 
Love walks In little paths aside. 

All day long on the highway 
Is a tiamp of an army's feet; 
You may w« tbem go in a marshaied row 

p:hy Google 

lo Poems of LoVe 

With the tale of their arms complete; 
They march for war and they march for peace, 
For thi- Just of gold and fame's increase, 

For victories sadder than defeat 

They raise the dust on the highway. 

All the armies of eaJth defied, . ' 

Love dwells in little paths a^de. 

All day long on the highway ' 
Rushes an eager band. 

With straining eyes for a worthless prize 
That slips from the grasp like sand. 
And men ieavebkwd whore their icet haw stood 
And bow them down unto brass and wood- 
Idols fashioned by tfieir own hand — 
Blind in the dust of the highway. 

Power and gold and fame denied. 
Love laughs glad in the patlis a«de. 

L9uh« Driiuli |<8}5- 

Take it, love! 
'Twill soon be over. 
With the thickening of the dover, 
With the calling of the plover, 
Take it, take it, lover. 

Take it, boy I 

The blossoin's falling. 

And the farewell cuckoo's calling, 

While the sun and sliowers are ode, 

Take your love out in die sdn. 

And fear no after, . 
Take your fill of all this laughter. 
Laugh or not, the tears will fall, 
Take the laughter first of all. ■ ' 

Sichvd Le OtUiMM* tiStffr- 


Song 51, 


D,g,t,7P:hy Google 

' ^T'i Poems ttf Love 

And the great doors opened wide apart 
AihI t vtAce Vang out from a glorr <tf l^t; 

"Make room, make room for a. faithful heai| 
In the House of Xove, to-night." 

Alfred Xoycs [iSflo- 

CinLD, child, love while yon can ■ ' 

The voice and (he eyes and the bouI o! a m*h. 
Never fear though it bteok your heart — i 
Out of ihc wound new joy will stai-f, 

Love, for the deadly sins are seven, 
Only through love will you enter heaven. 

Sara Teasdak [1S84- 

. ^ WISDOM ' 

The young girl questions: "Whether were it bet|.ef 
To lie for ever, a warm slug-a-bed, 
Or to rise up and bide by Fate and Chance, , 

- Thi rawness 0I the morning, /; 

The gibing and the scorning 
Of the stern Teacher of my ignorance? " 1 

"I know not," Wisdom said. 

The young girl questions: "Friend, shall I die rahtit^. 
If I've iain for ever, sheets above the head. 
Warm in a dream, or rise lo take the worst 

Of peril in the highways 

Of straying in the by-ways, 
Of hunger for the truth, of drought and thirscf " ' 

'*Wp do not know," he said, 

"Not may till we be dead." 

Ford Madox Uucffer {lAiif 


Epilogw '. 5,13. 

FROM Emblems OF love" ,;_, 

What shall ve^da fin- Lore tileaicl»yi^>' nl 
How shall we make an akuvblani ; ' ' -,' I 
To smite the bomy«ye>iofinfeA !■ -: 

With the renown ttf'Otir Heavoi, 
And to th^ \uibtl&vsrsprt>v6 ' . . ■ 1 .1 
Our service to our dauigod; Lore? . . ^ ■ 1 
What torches shall we lift aboV«_ I 1 r 
Thecrowd.tbatpusbesthrou^ the mini, iu 
To amaze the dark beads *ilh ^t^n^ fiite?-; 
I should think'I"we[e3nucb'l,o hlaihe, ";'( 
If neverlheldaome-frBgiaoK^fltoKi ' n 1 
Above the DoisM of thcwMrld, 7 ':■■.,-.!: 
And openly taid TOom'a bozrying stares^' ■ ' 
Worshipped bfioiv the saowd feara .! ' ■.;. 1' 
Hiat are like fla^ng curtaina'fnk^led'. . 
Across tfacpresencflofowrlord.LiWve. .-. ' V 
Nay, would-that I could 6U the gaze ' ' '.' 
Of the whole eaith with' some ^eai firaite/ 
Made in a marvel Ion mcn's.eyvs, . / I : // 
Some tower of glittering: -Dtastwrils, ~ ' 
ThcreED such a spirit fl3UEiiliiiig . :'.-<■. ') 
Men shoulder what myi heart con iihgf:! ' 
All that Lovt Jlath done to nw . ' ' ■ i 
Built into stone, a -nsiUe gkc; ■ , - i' 
Marblecarried to giemniafrheifht : / 
As moved' aktft by jnwaid ddi^it; 
Notas vrith (oilof cfaoebhetrni . '■ I 1 / 
But seeming poisHin-biAighty.tiluif.' • > ") 
For of all those ^hft have been- kngwn.' ' 
To lodge with our Idad best, the-^ui,. . ■ -'.A 
I envy one for justtoriethiilgr-' ■ ■' ■■••■.'' 

In Cordova of the Moors: '. i--\::-} 

"nieredweltapateiaiv-raindedEing, 1 I '. 
Who set great bands 6( marble'heweis m ) 
To fashion his tiearf&tbahk^iving : '7 
Ins'tiflpBtaarCba^ltaO' <.• :! j.n- 


JJ4-. Poems of Uove 

All the wondering world might know 
The joy he had of his Moorish lass. 
His love, that brighter and larger was 
Than the starry places, firm stone 
He sent, as if the stone were glass 
Fired and into beauty blown. : 
Solemn and invented gravely 
In its bulk the fabric stood, 

Of carven delicate ornament, 
Wreathing up like ravishment, 
Mentioning in scu^tures twined 
The blith^ess Love hath in Ins mind; 
And like delighted senses were 
The windows, uid the columns ther^ 
Made the following sight to adie 
As the heart that did them make. 
Well I can see that shining soiig 

Of that palace mt;^ have been 

A young god's fantasy, ere he catoe 

His serious worlds aad Btais to tome; 

Such an immortal passion / ' 

Quivered among the riiih hewn stone: ' 

And in the nights it seemed a jar 

Cut in' the substance of a star, / 

Wherein a. wine, that will be poured 

Some time for feasting Heaven, wa^ Mored. ' 


JipUogue , r\ 5^5 

D,g,t,7P:hy Google 

jKi Poems of Love 

All the outer world could see . i ■ .' 
Graved ^d saws amazingly T 

Their love's delighted riotisB,' i 

Fixed in marble for all men's cyes) > ■ 1 1 
But onl)" these twain' could abide I 

In the cool peace that wiibinside < ' ' 
Thrilling dttire and pusion dwelt; 
They only knew the acil meaning'qKlt 
By Love's flaming script, which is ] 

Glxi's^vo^d written in ecstasies. 

And Where is now that paiace-gotte^ 
All the magical skilled stone, 
All the droamuig towets wrought 
By Love as if no more than though 
The unresisting marble ^was? "' 

How could such a wobdet pan? ' 

Ah; it was but buih in vatn ' '■ 

Against the stupid homB of fone, ' ' 

That pushed down into the common loam 
The lovelinesd that shone in Spain. ■'"'. 
But we have raised it up agam! 
A loftier palace, fairer far, 
Is ours, and one that feats no woe ' ' 
Si^e in marvellous wallsL we are; 
Wondering sertse like bulhled fire^ > " > 
High amazement of danVes, 
Delight and certainty of ktve. 
Closing around, rooBng above i 

Our unapptoacbed and perfect hoar 
Within the spleodors of love's poweri 

LMMtUts Abenrtmiieiie&i- 


Against the green fiame of the hawthorn-tree, 
Hb scarlet tunic burns; 

And livelier than the green sap's mantling glpe 
The Spring fire tingles through him headily , 
As quivering he turns • r. r 


Once on a Time 517 

And stammers out the old amazing tale 

Of youth and April weather; 

While she, with half-breathed jests that, sobbing, fail, 

Sits, tight-lipped, quaking, eager-eyed and pale. 

Beneath her purple feather. 

Wilfrid Wilson Gibson [1878- 


Once on a time a Saxon king 
Who loved a queen of Rome. 

The worid has but one song losing,, .^ , 

The first and last o[ all the songs 

F«f k is ever true— , ,-. .j 

A little song, a tender soog, 

TheMily song >t hath; 
"There was a youth of AfiCdIon 

Who loved a girl of Gath." 

A thousaml thousand years have gone, , 

And ieons slill shall pass, 
Yet shall l^e world forever sing 

Of him who loved a lass— 
An olden song, a golden song. 

And singit unaFraid: 
"There was a, youth, once on a time, ,' ' 

Who dearly loved a maid." 

Kendall Banning \ii7g- 

p:hy Google 



From "AiUDpM«nd SteOt* ' ' 

Doubt you to whom my Muse thi^sc notes injteodeth, 
Which now my breast, o'eccharged, to m^isic tendeth? 

To you! lo you! ajl soiiig of praise is due; . , 
Only in you my song begins and endeth. 

Who hath th 

Who keeps t 

To you! tc 

Only for you 

Who hath th 

Who woman 

To youl tc 

Only by you 

Who hath the feet, whose step all sweetness plantetb? 
Who else, tor whom Fame worthy trumpets wantethP 

To you! to you! all song of praise is due; 
Only to you her sceplre Venus granteth. 

Who hath the breast, whose milk doth passions nourish? 
Whose grace is such, that when it chides doth cherish? 

To you! to you! all song of prai^ is due; 
Only through you the tree of life doth flourish. 

Who hath the hand, which without stroke subdueth? 
Who iong-dead beauty with increaae reneweth? 

To you! to you! all song of praise is due; 
Only at you all envy hopcle^ rueth. 


Silvia .519 

Who hath tbe;b«iT, whi«h. loosest fastest tiethP 
Who makes a man live theE glad when he dieth? 

To youl to you! all song of praise is due; 
Only of you the flatterer never Ucth. 





Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes' intendeth, 
Which now my breast, o'etcharged, to muMc lendeth? 

To you! to youl all song oi praise is due; 
Only in you my song begins and cndelh. 

Pkiiip Sidney [i5S*-is8fi] 

Theritb SilvialeruSsiBg, ' '" '' " - '■ ' 

That Silvia is exc^ng; 
She excds each mortal thing , 1 < i 

Upon the. dull earth dwelling:^ 
To her let us garlanda bring. 

p:hy Google 

'j^o Poems of Love 


'Ftam " Aleunder and Cunpupi '*' 

Cupid and my Campaspe played 

At cards for kisses; Cupid paid: 

He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, 

ttis mother's doves, and team of sparrow^;' 

Loses them loo; then down he throws ' 

The coral of his lip, the rose ' ' ' 

Growing on's check (but none kriowshow); 

With these, the crystal of his brow, 

And then the dimple on his <fefn; 

All these did my Campaspe win; 

And last he set her both his eyes- ■ ■ 

She won, and Cupid blind did rise; 

O Love! has she done this to thee? 

What shall, alas! become of me? 

JohnLyly [i5S4?-i6o6l 


Fniiii " UidH " 

Mv Daphne's hair is twisted gold, ' 
Bri^t stars apiece her eyes do hold. 
My Daphne's brow enthrones the Graces, 
My Daphne's beauty stains all faces, , , 
On Daplmc's cheek grow rose and cherry. 
On Daphne's lip. a sweeter berry, • 
Daphne's snowy hand but touched docs melt, 
And then no heavenlier warmth is felt^ 
My Daphne's voice tunes all the spheres,' 
My Dapline's music charms all cars. 
Fond am I thias (o sing her praise; ' ' 
These glories now are turned to bays. 

JdhH Lyly [ijs4?-i6o6l 


, FiOB "Pcijaiada",. 

Fair is my love fcK' Aprit'sin bcr Eacflr 

Her lovely breasts SefMRmber daJms his part, 
And lordly Jidy IB her s^atakite friace, 
' ' Bint odd t>eceMberdwdleth in her heart; 


Blest be the moaths that set ray thou^ts on fire 
Accurst that month that hindereth my desire. 

Like Fhoebus' fiie, so sparkle both her eyes, 
As air perf omed with amber is her breath. 

Like swelling waves her lovely rise, 
A8earth,ber.hqan.,cold,dateth me lo death: 

Aye me, poor man, that on the earth do live, 

When unkind earth death and despair doth give! 


Pram '"Hcuptwd^ 

Like to Diana in her sum^iier weed. 
Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye. 

Goes fair Samela; 
Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, 
When washed by Arethusa's Fount they lie, 

Is fair Samela. 

As fair Aurora in her morning-gray, 
Decked with the ruddy glister of her love. 

Is fair Samela^ . . i 

Like lovely Thetis oh a cahnM day. i 

Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move. 

Shines fair Samela. 

Her tresses gold, her eym like glassy streams, 
Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory 

Of fair Samela; ' '' ''■ 

Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth -glcabs; 
Her biloH's bright arches framed of ebony:'" I 

Thus fair Samela "■' ' 


Poems of L6ve 

Passeth fair Venus in het Iwavett hue^ ■ ■ • 
And Juno in the straw of majesty. 

For she's Samela; 
Pallas, in wit,— all three, if you well vSct», 
For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity 

Yield to Samda. 

Robert Gnati (isMi^isail 


Diaphenia like the ^Mreadih^ roses. 
That in thy sweets tiSl sweets encloses, 

Fair sweet, how I do love thee! 
I do love thee as each flower 
Loves the sun's life-giving power; , 

. For dead, thy breath to life might move n^e., 

Diaphenia like to all things blessM, 
When all thy praises are expressed. 

Dear joy, h«w I do love thee! 
As the Wrda dolove the spiias, , t 

Or the bees their careful king: . \ 

Then in requite, sweet virgin, bv&inel , i 

fl«r)' Cotutaiie [15,^*613! 


My love in her attire doth show her wit,' 
-,.It doth so well become her; ;,-..:, 

For, every season she hath dressings fit, , | 
For Winter, Spring, and Supuner. . 


' There is a X^dy Sweet and Kind " 52J 

No Iwauty she doth miss 

When all her robes are on: 
But Beauty's self she is 

When all her robes are gone. 



I SAW fair Cbtoris malk alone, 1 

When [eatheted. rain came swifUy down, ' 
As Jove dfscendiog from hid Tomer ' 

To mutt her in a alver stoweil: 1 

The wantcm soow flew to ber l^east, 
Like pretty birds into thoir nest, 
But, overcome with whiteness there, 
For grief it tliawed into a tear: , ^ 

TTience falling on her garment's hem, 
To decl; her, froze into a gem. 


These b a lady sweet and kind, 
Was never face so pleased my mud; 
I did bat see ber passing by, 
And yet I love her till I die. 

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles, 
Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles, 
Beguiles my heart, Tlcnow not why, 
And yet I love her tfl! I dit. ■ ■ 

Cupid is winged ard doth range, 
Her country so my love doth change; 
But change she earth, or change she sky, 
Yet I will love iKr tiU I die. 

. . I I . . Unknoant 


^24 Poems of Love 


There is a garden ia her face 

Where roses and white lilies blow; 
A heavenly paradise is that place, 
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow: 
There cherries grow which none may buy 
Till "Cherry-ripe" themadves do cry. 

Those cherries fairly do enclose 
Of orient pearl a double tost, 
Which when her lovely laughter shows. 
They look like rose-buds filled with snow; . 
Yet them nor peer nor pnncei can btiy 
Till "Cherry-ripe " themsdves do ay, i 

Her eyes like angels watch them still; 

Her brows like bended bows do stand, 
Threatening with piercing frowns to kill 
All that attempt with eye or hand 
Those sacred cherries to come nigh, 
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry. 

Xkomas Campion | ? -ifiigj 


I CAKE not for these ladies, 

That must be wooed and ptsjtA: 

Give me kind Anmriliia, 

The waoton countrymaid. 

Nature art disdaioetb. 

Her beauty is her own. ^ 

Her when we court and kias, . i 

She cries, Forsooth, let got 

But when we come where comfort is, 

She never will say No. 

If I love Amarillis, 
She gives mc fruit and flowere: 
But if we love these ladies, 
We must give golden showers. 

p:hy Google 

ElJzaheth oS, Bohemia > 525 

Give tbdn goMr th&t sell lows. 
Give meitbe Nut-brdwa laae, , 
Viho, yihet i^ coMrt and Iws, , . 
^K-otei, (^nooth, let go: 
But ^to we come where contfott is, 
^te DSvec nil! say No. 

These ladies must have pillows, 

And beds by strangers wrought; 

Give me a bower of willows, 

Of AiflM and leaves unbougbt. 

And fresh Amarillis, 

With Inilk and honey fed; 

Who, when we court and kiss,' 

She cries. Forsooth, let go: ' ' 

But when we come where comfort is, ' 

She never will say No! ' 

Thomas Campum [ ? -1619] 


You meaner beauties of the night, ' i 

That poorly Satisfy our eyes ' ' 

More by your number than your light, i 

You common people of the skies; 
What are you when the moon shall rise? t 

You curious chanters of the wood, 

That warble forfh Dame Nature's lays, 
Thinking your passions understood ■ - ■' 

■ By your weak accents; what's yourpialsfe'- 
When Philomel her voice shall raise? 

■, '1 
You violets that fiiGt apfiear, 

By your pure purple maatles known 
Like the proid virgins of the year, .,\ 

As if the spring were all yora own) , . ; 

What are you when tin rose is Mown? 


526 Poerrts of Lovi ! 

So, when my mistress ahiU be seen 
In form and beauty of her nundj 

By virtue first, then choice^ a QnMn. 
Tell me, if «ha were not <tesignM 
Th ' eclipse and glory of her kind, 

Uary.WvUom [i568-i6j|d 


ftom " A CelebcalkD of Cladi' ' 

See the Chariot at hand here of Love, 

Wherein my Lady rideth ! , 

Each that draws is a swan or a dove, 

And well, the car Love guideth. 
As she goes, all hearts do duly 

Unto her beauty; 
And, enamored, do wish, so they might 

But enjoy such a sight, 
That they still were to nin by her side. 
Through swords, through seas, whither she would ridt 

Do but look on her eyes, they do light 

All that Love 'a world comprisetbl 
Do but look oa. her hair, it is br«ht . 

AsLove'sstai wlioiit risethi 
Do but mark, her forehead's smoother 

Than words thai soothe her! 
And from her arched biows such a grixce 

Sheds itself through the face, 
As alone there triumphs to the life 
All the gain, all the good, ot the elennenls" strife. 

Have you seen hut a bright lily grow 

Before rude hands have touchy it ? 
Have you marked but the fall o' the saow . 

Before the soil hath smutched it? 
Have you felt Che wool of beaver, 
Or swan's down ever? , 


A WeloMae ; 537 

Or have smeito' ^e'txid o' ttw briw? 

< Orithe o^ m the fiw? 
Or have tasted the bag o' the betp ' 
O so wlnte,0 30 toft, O so.8w«a la she! 

BmJonwn [is73?-i637l 


In petticoat of green. 
Her hair about b«r eyne, 
Phyllis beneath so o«k 
Sat mHking her fair Akii: 
Among that sweefr-elreroed inoistut«, me delight, 
Her hand seemed milk in milk, it was«o white. 

William Drttnmond [1585-1649] 


Wdamie, wekome, do I sing. 
Far mort vielajme than the spring; 
H» that parteik from you never 
Sbail enjoy a spring forever. 

He that to the voice b near, 

Breaking from your ivory pate. 
Need not walk abroad to hear 
The deh'ghtful nightingale. 

He that hMks still on your eyes, 
Though the winter have begun 

To benumb our arteries. 

Shall, not want the summer's sun. 

He that still may aee youi cheeks, 
Whero aU rarenesa sliU reposes, 

Is a Eool if e'n be seeks 
Other lilies, otiier.ioeeB. 

p:hy Google 

"5^8 Poems of Love 

He' to whom your soft lip jiidda, ■< ■' 
And percerves your farealii la kissing, 

M the odors of the fields 
Never, never shall be U 

He that question would anew 

What fair Eden was of old. 
Lei htm lightLy study jypu, 

And a brief of that behold. 

WelcoiiK, weloome, linn 1 smg, ■ ' 

Far more wdOrme tfcwt (it springs ■ 
He thai partetitfrom you never, 
ShaU atjiry a spring fofeoer. / 

' - WiUiam Browe [■d9t~i^4i^) 


For her gait, W she be JtvaJking ; 
Be she sitting, I desire her 
For het state's sake; and admire her 
For h^ wit if she be talking; * 

Gait and state and wit approve her; 

For which all and each I lovb'her. 

Be she sullen, I commend her 
For a modest. Bcshemeriy, ' 
For a kind one her prrfei- 1. 
Brieily, werything dolh l«id her 

So much grace, and so approve her. 

That (or everything I lovu her, 

William Brnvne Ii59t-t643f] 


Some asked mewhere the rubies grew, 

And nothing 1 did say, 
But with my finger pointed to 

The Iip««f' Julia. 


■. ToCynttiid: . 519 

Some asked i))(liS'peaals^cUd growy aad where: 

Ibai epehe I to my girt, 
To part. berlipt, and sbaned tbero there 

The quarrelets of pearl. 

Robert Rerrick [1191-1674] 


WitENAS in silks my Julia goes, 
Then, ihep, methinks, how sweetly flows 
The liquefaftioD of her clothes! 
Nexl, when I caat mine eyes and see 
Tliat.biavc vibmdon each way free, 
— O how that glittering taketb me! 

Robert llerrick [iS9'- 


Do not QOnceal those radiant eyes, 
The starlight of serenest skies; 
Lest, wanting of their heavenly light, ', 
They tucn to chaos' endless night! 

Do nOC conceal those tenses fair. 
The silken soBtes of thy Suited hair; 
Lest, finding neither gfM nor oce, 
The curious silk'wonn work no more. 

Do not conceal those breasts of thine. 
More snow-white than the Apenninc; 
Le^, if these be like cold and frost, 
The lily be for ever lost. ' 

Do not conceal that fragrdnt sceSt, 
Thy breath, whi<4 to all flowers hath tent 
Perfumes; lest, if being supprasKd; 
No spioes grow in all the rest. 

p:hy Google 

, j^o Poems of' Love 

"DonoC conceal tbylieawpiljrvtriceH •'. 
Which makes the bearta of gads fejoida; 
Lest, itiuEJcheftrtDgnosuditbiDg, I .\ 
The nightingale forget to-eing. < l 

Do not conceal, nor yet eclipse. 
Thy pearly teeth with coral lips; 
Lest that the seas cease to bring forth 
Gems which from thee have ail tbeir worth. 

Do not conceal no beauty, grace, 
'That's either in thy mind or fadi; ' 
Lest virtae overcome by vice 
Make men believe no Paradise: 

FnuMif XymiMM' (ts87-i64i] 


Ask me no more where Jove bestows. 
When June is past, the fading rose; , 
For in your beauty's orient deep 
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. 

Ask me no more whither doth haste ■ 
The ni^tingalc whon May is pasti 
For in your sweet dividing throat 
Sh© winters and keeps warm hei note. 

Ask me no more where those stars 'ligt^t 
That downwards fall in dead of night; 
For in your eyes ihcy sit, and there ^ 
Fiild become as in their sphere. 

Ask me no more if east or west 
The F^oenix builds her spicy nest? ' 
' For unto you at last E3ie 'flies; I 

And in ymlr fragrant boscHn dies. 

. Thmas-Cattm ([n8?-i6}9?1 

p hyGoogle 

I Castara '; i^i 

And vheresoe'er my iuicy wuld bfsjn, > 
Still her perfection lets religiqii in. . / 

A naiTOW compass! and yet there - 
Dwelt all theft's good, and all that's fair! 
Give rae but what this ribbon bound, 
Take all the t^t the sun goes round! 

Sdi^und WaUer (.606- 

CASTARA , , . 

LiKS the Violet, wind) .aldne 

Prospers in some happy, shade. 
My Caslara lives rinknowni , . 

To no looser eye betrayed: 
■ For She'sW herefelf untrue 
Who delists i' the public view. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Love 

Such is her beauty as no arts 
Have eniicbed With boraowed grace. 

Her high birth no pride imparts, 
For she blushes in her place. 

Folly boasts a glorious blood; ' ' 
She is noblest, being good. 

Cautious, she knew never yet 

What a wanton courtship meuit; 
Nor speaks loud to boaat her Wit, 
In her silence, eloquent. 

Of herself survey she takes, 
But 'tween men no diflerenoe mi 

She obeys with speedy will 

Her grave parents' wise commands; 
And so innocent, that ill- 
■ She nor acta, dot understands. 

Women's feet run slill astray ', 
If to ill they know the way. 

She satis by that rock, the court, 

She holds that day's pleasure best 
Where sin waits not on deBght; 
Without mask, or ball, or feast, 
Sweetly spends a winter's night. 

O'er that darkness whence is thrust 
Prayer and sleep, oft governs lust. 

She her throne makes reason climb, 

While wild passions cAptive lie; 
And, tach. aTtiole of Lim£, 
Her pure thoughts to beftven fly; ' 
All bcTiwws religious be,. 
■ And she vows herloye to me. 

leUftm^^inftoM [160S-1 

p:hy Google 




Araiuntha, swcel and fair. 
Ah, braid no more ihal shining hair! 
As my curious hand or eye 
Hovering round thee, let it fly. 

Let it fly as unccmfined 
As its cahn ravisfaer llM wiftd, 
Who hath left his dftrtbig; ib' east. 
To wanton in that spicy nest. 

Every tress must be confessed; 
But neatly tanked at the best; , 

Like a clew of golden thread | 

Most excellently ravell&i. 

Do nM, tken, -feted up that light 
In ribbons, and o'et-doud )» wgfat. 
Like die stm la's early ny;' 
But shake your head and scatter day. 

Richard Lareiace [i«ig-i6s8l 

Chloe's a N)miph in flowery groves, 

A Keteid in the streams; 
Saint-Kke she in t?te temple moves, 

A woman in my dreams. 

Love steals artillery from her eyes, 
The Graces poi^t her charms; 

Orpheus is rivalled '» ^'^ voice, 
And Venus in bqr arn^. 

Never' so happily in cWfe 

■ DM heaven and earth cambine; 
And yet 'tfe flesh and Hood alone 
Tliat makes her so divihe. 

Thoinas D'Urfiy [i6s3-i 

p:hy Google 

Poems :of Lioy.e 


My Peggy is a young thing, 
Just entered in her teens, 
Fair as the day, and sweet as ^^ay, 
Fair as the day, and always gay; 

My Peggy is a young thing. 

And I'm na very auld, i 

Yet'weel I like to meet het, at 

The wauking o' the ifmld. ■ 


To a' the.laye I'm catild; i 

But the. gars a. my ^Mnts glo^ 

Atntaukingo'thefaidd. ] 

My Peggy smiles sae kindly 
Whene'er I whisper love, 
That I look doun on a' the toun. 
That I look doun upon i axniti: 

My Peggy. smiles saekindjy, , 

It makes me blithe apd bauld, 
And ii&ethiflg gi'es me sic jdielight 
As wEuUlpng.o' the fai^d^ 

My Peggy sings sae saftly. 

When on my Rj'tw I play; ' 

By a' the rest it is coiifcssed," 
By a' Ihc rest that she sings best: ' 

My Peggy sings sae'SSjEUy, / 
I And is hersangs are|av|d, 
Wi' innocence the wale o'sq^se, 
At wauking o' ihc fauldj 
; '.". ,, \ Allan Ramsay [1686-17581 

p:h». Google 

"TeJL'Mei My Heart" ,^gj 

FtPm " Acb wd SaUtw ' ' 

O KDDDIER than the cheny! 
O sweeter than the benyl 

nymph more bright 

Than moonshine nijsht, 
Like kidlings blithe and merryl 
Ripe as the melting luster; 

Yet hard to tame ' ' 

As raging flame, 
And fierce as storms that blusterl ' 


When Delia on flle plain appears, ' 
Awed by a thousand tender fears 
I TMrald approach, butduenot raovfe: 
Tell me, my heart, if tWe be love? 

Whene'er she speaks, my ravished ear 
No other voice than here can hear, 
No other wit but here approve; 
Tell me, my heart, if this be love? 


53^ Poems of Love 


Before tke uichin well could go, , . 
She stole the whiteness of the gdow; 
And more, that whiteness to adorn, 
She stole the blushes of the mom; , 
Stole all the sweetness eliwr sheds 
On primrose buds and violet beds. 

StUl to reveal her artful wiles , : ,/ 
She stole the Graces' silken smiles; 

She stole Aurora's balmy breath; 
And pilfered orient pearl for teeth; 
' The cherry, dipped in morning dew,' ■' 
Gave moisture to her life, and hue.' ' 

These were her in&int ap«la, a slare;i 
And she, in time, still pilfered nioiot- 
At twelve, she stole from Cyprus' queen 
Her air and love-commanding mien; 
Stole Juno's dignity; and stole 
From Pallas sense to charm the soul. 

ApoUo'a wit was nert her prey; 
Her next, th»heam that lights the diV; 
She sang; — mmeeA, tfae'Sinnts hoard. 
And to asseirt tbdr voioe appeared. 
She played; — the Muses from their 1)1)1, 
Wondered who thus had stole iheir skill. 

Great Jove approved her crinics and *rt; 
And, t'other day, she stole my heart! 
If lovers, Cupid, are thy care, 
Eaert thy Vengeance on thh Fair: 
To trial' bring her Btoleri chartns, 
And let her prison be my armsl ' 

' Charla Wyndham\n to~) 


■ Song 537 


If rightly tuoeful bards decide, 
If it be Bled in Love's deCTces, 

That Beauty ow^t not to be irietf 
But by iVs native power to please,' 

Then tell me, youths and lovers, tell— 

What fair can Amoret excel? 

Behold that bright unsullied smile, 
And wisdom speaking in her mien; 

Yel — ahe so artless all the while. 
So lillle studious lo be seen — 

We naught but instant gladness know, 

Nor think, to whom the gift we ow& 

But neither music, nor the powers 
Of youth and mirth arid froKc cheer. 

Add half the sunshme (o the houis, 
O make life's prospect h&lf so d^r, 

As memory brings it to the eyC ' 

From scene? where Amoret was by. 

This, sure^ is Beauty's happiest part; 

This gives the niost unbounded sway; 
' Tiaia shall emdiant the subject heart 

When rose and lily fade away; 
And she be stUl, in spite of "nme, 
Sweet Amoret, hi all her prime- 

Mark Akmside [1711-1 


TWb1»»1»b 4loi}e let otheraprizf, 
TheJeatures of tbe Jair: ; 

I look for spitit in her eyes, 
And meaning in ber aitt 


538 Poems of Love 

A damask cheek, an ivory arm, 

Shall ne'er my wishes win: 
Give me an animated form, 

That speaks a mind within. 

A face where awful honor shines, 
Where dense and sweetness move:, 

And angel innocence lefinA 
The tenderness of love. 

These are the soul of beauty's frame; 

Without whose vital aid 
Unfinished all her features seem. 

And all her roses dead. 

But ah! where both their charms unite. 

How perfect is the view, 
With every image of delight, 

With graces ever new: 

Of power to charm the greatest woe. 

The wildest rage contn^ 
DiBusing mildness o'er the brow. 

And rapture through the souL . 

Their power but faintly to eipress 

All language must despair; 
But go, behold Arpasia's face, 

And read it perfect there. 

Mark Akensiit [1731- 

The silver moon's enamored beam 

p:hy Google 

•> ■ Song' ■ riJ39 

UpoO the green the vHginsW^t, .< 

-Ib f(H7' diaplets gay, .1 
Till mom unbar her golden gate, 

And give tlie [»onii^ May. 
Meliunk$ I hear . the maids declare, , / 

The promised May, when seep, ■ 
Not half so fri^grast, half so,iair, , , 

4s Kate of, ^berdeon. 

Strike up the labor's boldest notesj 

We'll rouse the nodding grove; 
The nested birds shall raise their throats, 

And hail the maid of love; 
And see— the matin lart mistakes, 

He quits the .tufted gjceen: 
Fond bird! 'tis npt the morning brqaks,— 

lls.Kate of Aberdeen. ,, , 

Head, ' 

;. ■■ * 

reTl lead, 
is try. 


Who has robbed tliC ocean cave, ' ' ' 

To tinge thy lips with'coral hue? ' 
Who from India's distaiit waVe' 

For thee those pearly treasures drtW? 
Who froffi yonder orient sky ' ' 
Stole the morning of thine eye? ' 

A tficuaahd cbbnns, thy form to deck, 
Fronv sea, and earth, aodajf a« torn; 

RoeesUoom upon thy ch^, ; : 
On thy breath their fragrance borne. 



Poems of Love 

Guard thy bosom from the d>Yv ' j 
Lest thy snows should melt Awaijf. 

But one charm remains behind, ■' 

Which mute earth can ne'er hnpart; ■'' 

Nor in ocean wilt thou find, 

Nor in the circling air, a heart. -■■ 

Fairest! wouldst thou perfect be, 

Take, oh, take that heart frpni me. 

Jakn 5/iaio [isS9-i6isl 

The feathered people you might see, 
Perched all around on every tree, 
In notes of sweetrat melody . 

They ^il tlje charming Chloe; ,' ' " 
Till, painting gay the eastern skies, ,, 
The glprious sun began to rise, 
Out-rivalled by the radiant i;yes 
Of yquthful, charming CUoe, 
Lovely was she by the dawn. 
Youthful Ghloc, duwmingjC&lob, 
■ ' Tripping o'er the peirly lawn, . 
The youthful, channing Chtoe. , 
■ RttbtnBuma \ns' 


The Ldver's Gh(l>(ce 

As I was walking up the street, '■ ' 


You, Damon, covet to possess 
The nymph that sparkles in her drc^; 
Would rustling silks and hoops invade, ,, ; 
And clasp an aimful «f brocade. 

Soch tBtse the price of yopur delight 
Who iMitcAad^ haih their red and ffklte,. 
And, p£nte-Uke, burprise your heart 
With ctJors of adulterate arL 

p:hy Google 

514.1 Poems ■ of Lbve I 

Me, Damon, me the maid enchants 

■ -W^QSe clieeks thehand otnatuxe.pafnte^ 
A modest blush adorns her face, 
Her ail an unafiocted grace. ■ \ ■ t. 

No art she knows, or seeks to know; 
No charm to wealthy pride will owe; j 
No gems, no gold she Jieeds to wear; 
She shines intrinsically fair. 

Thomas Bedingfi^y ? -ifiijl 


Mv day and night are En my la'dy'i hant!; ';'_ 
I have no other sunrise than her sight; ' 

For me her favor glorifies the land; 
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light,' 
Her face is fairer than the hawthorn white, 

When all a-flower in May the hedgero^ts stand; 
• Wiile *e YS kind, 1 know of no affdgUrt; ' 

My day and night arein'mylady'S'ttend'. ' '^■ 

All heaven in ber gloiioDs eyes is spanned; 

Her smile is softer than the fummer's night, 
Gladder than daybreak on the faery st^^d; 

I have no. other subcise than- ber ,^tit. 

Her silver speech is like the singing flight 
Of runnels rippling o'er the jewelled sand; 

Her kiss a dream of delicate delight; 
For me her favor glorifies the land. 

What if the Winter chase the Summer bland ! 

The gold sun in her hair burns ever briglit. 
If she be sad, straightway all joy is banned; 

Her anger darkens all the cheerful h'ght. ' 

Come weal or woe, I am my lady's knight 
And in her service every ill withstand; 

Love is my Lord in all the wnrld's do^^ 
And holdeth m'the hoDowof his band 

My day and TL^f . 


' My LoveShe^s But a' Lassie Yet" 543- 


. My love she's but a lassie yet, / , 
A lightsome lovdy lassie yet; 

It scarce wad do 

To sit an' woo 
Down hy the stream ,sae gla^y yet. 

But there's a braw tinje coming yet. 
When we may gang a-roaming yet; 


TheirQ, toimqelmylassiey^t/ i- 

Up in yoD glen sae grassy yet; 

■ Foralllsce ' ■■ '■' 

Ate naught to rae, 
Save hefthafS but a lassie yet. ' 
Jamer Hog^'ln 


Poems pf Love 


The suii has gane down o'er the lofty BentortiOlid " ' ' 
And left the red clouds to [)reside o'er the scene, 

While laoely I stray, in the calm simmer gloamin', 
To muse on sweet Jessie, the Flower o' Dunblane. 

How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauldin' blosEu>m, 

And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green; 
Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom, 

Is lovely young Jessie, the Flower o' Dunblane- 
She's modest as ony, and blithe as she's bonnie; 

For guileless simplicity marks her its ain ; 
And far be the villain, divested of feeling, 

Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet Flower o' Dunblane 

Sing an, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'en ing! ' 
Thou'rt dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen; 

Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning, 
Is channing young Jessie, the Flower o' Dunblane 

How lost were r 

The sports o' 
I ne'er saw a ny 

Till oharmed ' nblane. 

Though mine 

Amidst its 
And reckon a 

If wanting 


Makgaret's beauteous-^Greqan arts 
Ne'er drew forfn completer, 

Yet why. in my hearts of boarts, . 
Hold I Dora's sweeter? 


'It Is Not Beftuty I Demand" 547 


It is not Beauty I demand, 
A crystal brow, the moon's despair, 

Nor the saow's da.ughter, a white hand, , 
Nor mermaid's yellow pride oE hair: 

Tell me not of your stany eyes. 
Your lips that seem on roses fed, 

Your breasts, where Cupid tumbling lies 
Nor sleeps tor kissing of his bed:— 

A bloomy pair of Tcrmeit cheeks 
Like Hebe's in her ruddiest hours, 

A breath that softer music ^>eaks 
Than summer winds a-wooing flowej», — 

These are but gauds; nay, what are Kps? 

Coral beneath the ocean^stream, 
Whoae brink when your adventurer sips 

Full oft he perisheth on them. 

And what are ch«dcs but ensigns <rft' 
That wave hot youth to fields of blotod? 

Did Helen's breast, though ne'er 96 soft. 
Do Greece or Ilium any good? 

Eyes can with bakful ardor bum; 

PiMSon can breathe, that erst perfumed; 
There's many a white hand holds an urn 

With lovers' hearts to dust consumed. 

For crystal brows — there's naught wftbfn; 

They are but empty cells' for pride; 
He who the Siren's hair would win 

p:hy Google 

c^iS Poems of Love 

One in whose gentle bosom I 

Ccruld -pour ray secret heart of woes. 

Like the care-burthen ed honey-fly 
That hides his murmurs in the rose,- 

My earthly Comforter! whose love 

So indefeasible might be 
That, when my spirit won above, 

Hers could not stay, for sympathy. 

Gtorge Darley [17918-18461 



She is not fair to outward view 

As many maidens be, 
Her loveliness I never knew 

Until she smiled on me; 
Oh! then I saw her eye was bright, 
A well of love, a spring of light. 

But now her looks ace coy and cold. 

To mine they ne'er reply, 
And yet I cease not to befaold 

The kive-light in her eye: 
Her very frowns are fairer far ; 

Than smiles of other maidens are. 

HarOty CekrUge Uigd-iiw] 


A VIOLET in her lovely hair, 
A rose upon her boaom [airl 

But O, her eyes 
A lovelier violet disclose. 
And her ripe lips the sweetest rose 

That's 'Death the skies. 

A lute beneath her graceful hand 
Bretithes music forth at her cotmnaDd; 


Eileen Aroon 

But still her tongue 
Far richer music calls to birth 
Than all the minstrel power on earth 

Can give to song. 

And thus she moves in tender light. 
The purest ray, where all is bright, 

Serene, and sweet; 
And sheds a graceful influence round, 
That hallows e'eo the very ground 

Beneath her feet! 

Charles Swain [iSoi- 


Eileen Aroon! 

Is it the laughing eye, 

Eileen Aroon! 
Is it the timid sigh, 

Eileen Aroon! 
Is it the tender lone. 
Soft as the stringed harp's moan? 
O, it is tjuth alone, — 

Eileen Aroon! 

When like the rising day, 

Eilem Aroon! 
Love sends his early ray, 

Eileen Aroon! 

What makes his dawning glow. 
Changeless lhro\q!h joy or woe? 
Only the constant know;^ 
Eileen Aroon! 

p:hy Google 

55© Poems of Love 

I know a valley fair, 

Eileen Aroon! 
I knew a cottage there, 

Eileen AnmnS 
Far in that valley's shade 
1 knew a gentle maid, 
Flower of a hazel glade, — 

Eileen Aroon! 

Who in the song so sweet? 

Eileea A toon I 
Who in the dance so fleet? 

Eileen Aroon 1 
Dear were her charms to m^ 
Dearer her laughter free. 
Dearest her constancy, — 

Eileen Aroon 1 

Were Ae do longer true, 
Eileen Aroon I 
Wbat should her lorei do? 

Eileen Aroon 1 
Fly with bb -braken chain 
Far o 'er the sounding main, 
Never to love again, — 

Eileen Aroon 1 
Youth must with time decay, 

Eileen Aroon! 
Beauty must fade away, 
Eileen Aroon! 
Castles are sacked in' war. 
Chieftains are scattered far, 
Truth is a li^d star,— 
^eoii Aroon t 

Go-aid Cri^M (1803-1840] 
Maxweltoh braes are bonnie 

Where early fa's the dew, 

And it's there that Annie Laurie 

Gie'd me her promise true — 


To Helen rri 

Gie'd me her promise true, 

Which ne 'er foigot will be; 
And Cor bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me doun and dee. 

Hei blow is like the snaw-drift; 

Her throat is lilce tlje swan; 
Her face it is ibe fairest 

That e'er the sun shone on — 
That e 'er the sun shone on — 

And dark blue is her ee; 
And foT bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me doun and dee. 
Lilcc dew on the gowan lying 

Is the fa' o' her fairy feet; 
And like the winds in siunmer sighing, 

Her voice is low and sweet — 
Her voice is low and sweet — 

And she's a' the world to me; 
And for bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me doun and dee. 

William Douglas [i6Ti?-tJ48l 


H£tEN, thy beauty is to me 

Like those Nioean barks of yore, 
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea. 

The weary, waywom wanderer bore 

To his own native shore. 

On desperate seas long wont to roam. 
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, 

Tby Naiad aiis, have brought me home j 
To the glory that was Greece . . 
And the grandeur thu wag Rcone. 

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche ' 

How slatue-like I see thee stand, 
The agate lamp within thy hand! 

Ah, Psyche, from the regions which 

Are Holy Land ! 

Edgar Allan Pot [180Q-1S49I 


5jJt Poems of Love 


From •■ Hwid " 

A VOICE by the ..^•dar tree, 

In the meadow under the Hall! 

She is singing an air that is known to mc, 

A passionate ballad gallant and gay, 

A martial song like a trumpet's call! 

Singing alone in the morning of liEe, 

In the happy morning of life and of May, 

Singing of men that in battle array, 

Ready in heart and ready in hand. 

March with banner and bugle and fife 

To ihe death, for their native land. 

Maud with her exqui^tc face. 
' And wild voice pealing up to the sunnv sky. 
And feet like sunny gems on an English green, 
Maud in the light of her youth and faer grace. 
Singing of Death, and of Honor tbat cannot die. 
Till I well could weep for a time so sordid and mean 
And myself so languid and base. 

Silence, beautiful voice! 

Be still, for you only trouble the mind 

With a joy in which I cannot rejoice, 

A glory 1 shall not find. 

Still! I will hear you no more, 

For your sweetness hardly leaves me a choice 

But to move to the meadow and fall before 

Her feel on the meadow grass, and adore. 

Not her, who is neither courtly nor kind, 

Not her, not her, but a voice. 

Atjred Tennyson itSoo~iS9i| 


The Henchman 553 


Nav but you, who do not love her, 

Is she not pure gold, my mistress? 
Hold* earth aught— speat truth-above he^? 

Aught like this tress, ace, and this tress, 
And this last fairest tress of all, 
So fair, see, ere I lat it (all? 

Because you spend your lives in praising; 

To praise, you search the wide world over: 
Then why not witness, calmly gazing. 

If earth holds aught— speak truth— above her? 
Above this tress, and this, I touch 
But cajinot praise, I love so much! 

Robert Bromtin£ 11811-1889! 

My lady walks her morning round. 
My lady's page her fleet greyhound, 
My lady's hair the fond winds stir, 
And all the birds make songs for her. 

Her thrushes sing in Rathbum bowers, 
And Rathburn side is gay with flowers; 
But ne'er like hers, in flower or bird. 
Was beauty seen or music heard. 

The distance of the stars is hers; 
The least of all her worshipers. 
The dust beneath her damty heel, 
Site knows not that I see or feel. 

Oh, proud and calm! — she cannot know 
WliCTe'er she goes with her I go; ■ 
Oh, cold and fair!— she cannot guess 
I kneel to share her hound 's caress! 

Gay knights beside her hunt and hawk, 
I rob their ears of her sweet talk; 

p hyGoogle 

Poems of 'Lovq 

Her suitors come from cast and west, 
I steal her smiles from every guest. 

Unheard of her, in loving words, 

I greet her with the song of birds; 

I reach her with her green-armed bowetB, ■ 

I kiss her with the lips of flowers. 

The hound and I are on her trail, 
The wind and I uplift her veil; 
As if the calm, cold moon she were, 
And I the tide, I follow her. 

As unrebuked as they, I share 

The license of the sun and air, ' 

And in a common homage hide ' ' ' ' i 

My worship from her scorn and pride. 

World-wide apart, and yet so near, 
I breathe her charmed atmosphere. 
Wherein to her my sendee brings 
The reverence due to holy thiiisi. 

Her maiden pride, het haughty name, 
My dumb devotion shall not shame; 
The love that no return doth crave. 
To knightly levels lifts the slave. 

No lance have I, in joust or fight, ' 
To splinter i a my lady's sight; 
But, at her feet, how blest were I 
For any need of hers to die! 

John Grcenteaf Wkillier^ [1S07-1891) 


Oh, lovely Mary Donnelly, it's you I love the beat! 

If fifty girls were round you I'd hardly see the rest. 

Be what it may the time of day, the place be where it will. 

Sweet looks of Mary Donnelly, they bloom iteltrt me stilL 


Lovely Mary Donnelly 555 

Her eyes like ntountain water that's &iwiag od a rock, 
How clear they are, how dark they ate! they give me many^ 
a shock. i 

Red rowans warm in sunshine and wetted with a shower. 
Could iie'er express the charming, lip that has me in itn 


p:hy Google 

5j6 Poems of Love - 

O lovely Mary Donnelly, your beauty's my diEtrees: • 
It's far too beauteous to be mine, but I'tl never wish it les». 
The proudest place would fit your face, and I am poor and 

But blessings be about yoli, dear. Wherever you Tuay go! 

WiUiam AUingkam IiSm-iBSq] 


Umuek yonder beech-tree single on the green-ewaid, 

Couched with her arms behind her golden head. 
Knees and tresses folded to slip and rjpple idly, 

Lies my young love sleeping in the diade. 
Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her, 

Press her parting lips as her waist I gBther slonr. 
Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me: 

Then would she hold me and never let mc go? 

Shy as the squirrel and wayward as tb« swallow. 

Swift as the swallow along the river's light ' 
Cirdeiing the surface to meet his mirioreil wioglets. 

Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight. 
Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-lops, 

Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun, 
She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, 

Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won! 

When her mother tends her before the lai^hing ainor, 

Tyit^ up her laces, looping up her bait, 
Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded. 

More love should I have, and much less care. 
When her mother tends her before the lighted tnitror, 

Loosening her laCes, combing down her curb. 
Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, 

I should miss but one for many boys and girls. 

Heartless she is as the shadow ui the meadows. 
Flying to the hilb on a blue and breezy noon. 

No, she is atMrst and drinking up her wonder: 
Earth to her is young as the slip of the new moon. 


Love in the Valley 557 

Deals she an unkindnesa, 'tb but her rapid measure, 
Even as ia a. dance; and her smile can hesl no less: 

TJke the swinging May-doud that pelts the flowers witk 
OS asunay border, she was made to bniise and blesK. 

Lovely are the curves of the while owl sweeping 

Wavy in the dusk lit by one large star. 
Lone on the 6r-branch, his rattle-note unvaried, 

Ay, but shows the South'West a ripple-feathered boeom 
Blown fo silver while the clouds are shaken and ascend 

Scaling the mid havens as they stream, there comes a ftoosft 
Rich, de^ like love ia beauty without end. 

p:hy Google 

55* Poem9 of Love ' 

When at dawn she sighs, and like an infant-lo the windinr 

Turns grave eyes craving light, released from dreams, 
Beautiful she looks, like a white water-lily 

Bursting out of bud in havens of the streaois. 
When from lied she rises clothed from neck to ankle 

In her long nightgown sweet as boughs of May, 
Beautiful she looks, like a tall garden-lily 

Pure from the night, and splendid for the day. 

Mother of the dews,<iark eye-lashed twilight, 

Low-Udded twilight, o'er the valley's brim. 
Rounding on thy breast sings the dew-deli^ted skylarfc, 

Clear as though the dcwdrops had their voice in him. 
Hidden where the rose-flush drinks the rayless planet, 

Fountain-full he p)ours the spraying fountain-sfaowers. 
Let me hear her laughter, I would have her ever 

Cool as dew in twilight, the krk above the flowers. 

All the gitls are out with thei ; 

Up lanes, woods through, t 
My sweet leads: she knows n< s. 

Eyes the bent anemones, ai 
Such a look will tell that the 

Coming the rose: and unaware a cry 
Springs in her bosom for odors and for color. 

Covert and the nightingale; she knows not why. 

Kerchiefed head and chin she darts between her tulips. 

Streaming likt a wiUow gray in arrowy rain: 
Some bend beaten cheek to gravel, and their angel 

She will be; she lifts them, and on she speeds again. 
Black the driving rain cloud breasts the iron gateway: 

She is forth to cheer a neighbor lacking mirth. 
So when sky and grass met rolling dumb for thunder 

Saw I once a white dove, sole light of earth. 

Prim little scholars are the flowers of her garden, 
Trained to stand in rows, and asking if they please. 

I might love them well but for loving more the wld ones; 
O my wild ones! they tell me more tbas these. 


Love in the Valley 559 

You, my wild one, you tell o( honied 'fidd-iuse, 
Vi<riet, bhishing ^aatice in Itie; and even as they. 

They by the wayside are earaest of your goodness, 
You are of life's, on the banks that line the way. 

Peering at her chambet the white crowns the red rose. 

Jasmine winds the pon^ with stars two and three, 
lifted is the window; she sleeps; the starry jasmine 

Breathes a falling breath that carries thoughts of me. 
Sweeter unpossessed, have I said of her my sweetest? 

Not while she sleeps; while she sleeps the jasmine breathes, 
Luring her to love: she sleeps; the starry jasmine 

Beats me to her pillow under white rose-wreaths. 

Ydlow with birdfoot-trefoil are the grass-glades; 

Ydlow with cinquefoil of the dew-gray leaf; 
YeBow with stonecrop; the moss-mounds are yellow; 

Blue-necked the wheat S.ways, yellowing to the sheaf. 
Green-yellow bursts from the 'copse the laughing yaffle; 

Sharp as a sickle is the edge of shade and shine: 
Earth in her heart laughs looking at the heavens, 

Thinking of the harvest: I look and think of mine. 

Front door and back of the mossed old farmhouse 

Open with the morn, and in a breezy link 
Freshly sparkles garden to stripe-shadowed orchard, 

Green across a rill where on sand the minnows wink. 
Busy in the grass the early sun of summer 

Swaims, artd the blackbird's meUow fiuting notes 
Call my darling up with round and roguish chidlen^t 

Quaintest, richest carol of all the singing throatsi 


c6o Poems of Love 

Cool was the woodsidc; cool as her white dairy 

Keepiog sweet the cream-pan; and there tie boys from 
Cricketing below, rushed brown and red with sunshinci 

O the dark tranducence of the deep-eyed cool! 
Spying from the farm, herself she fetched a pitcher 

Full of milk, and tilted for each in turn the beak. 
Then a little fellow, mouth up and on tiptoe. 

Said, "I will kim you": she laughed and leaned her cheek. 

Doves of the fir-wood walling high_our red roof 

llirough the long noon coo, crooning through the coo. 
Loose droop the leaves, and down the sleepy roadway 

Sometimes pipes a chaffinch; loose droops the blue. 
Cows flap a slow tail knee-deep in the river. 

Breathless, given up to sun and gnat and fly. 
Nowhere is she seen; and if I see her nowhere. 

Lightning may come, straight rains and tiger sky. 

O the golden sheaf, the rustling treasure -armful! 

the nuibrown tresses nodding interlaced! 
O the treasurc-tresscs one another over 

Nodding! O the girdle slack about the waist! 
Slain are the poppies that shot their random scarlet 

Quick amid the wheat-ears: wound about the waist, 
datliercd, see these brides of Earth one blush of ripenessl 

O the nutbrown tresses nodding interlaced. 

Large and smoky red the sun's cold disk drops, 

Clipped by naked hills, on violet shaded snow: 
Eastward lai^e and still lights up a bower of moonrise, 

Whence at her leisure steps the moon aglow. 
Nightlong on black print -branches our beech-tree 

Gazes in this whiteness: nightlong could I. 
Here may life on death or death on life be painted. 

Let me chisp her soul to know she cannot dtel 

CosKps count her faults; ihey scout a narrow chamber 
Where Ihece is no window, read not heaven or her- 

"WheH she was a tiny," one aged woman quavers. 
Plucks at my heart and leads me by the ear. 


Love in the Valley j^j 

Faults she had once as she learned to run and tumbled: 
Faults of feature some see, beanty not complete. 

Yet, good gossips, beauty that makes holy 
Eaitb and aii, may have faults from head to feet. 

Hither she txjmes; she comes to me; she lingers, 

Deepens her brown eyebrows, while in new surprise 
High rise the lashes in wonder of a stranger; 

Yet am I the light and living of her eyes. 
Something friends have told her Slls her heart to brimming, 

Nets her in her blushes, and wounds her, and taines. — 
Sure of her haven, like a dove alighting, 

Anns up, she dropped: oui souls were in our names. 

Soon will she lie like a white frost sunrise. 

Yellow oats and brown wheat, barley pale as rye. 
Long since your sheaves have yielded to the thresher. 

Felt the Jjirdle loosened, seen the tresses fly. 
Soon will she lie like a blood-red sunset. 

Swift with the tj-morrow, green-winged Spring! 
Sing from the Sonth-west, bring her back the truants. 

Nightingale and swallow, song and dipping wing. 

Soft new beech-leaves, up to beamy April 

Spreading bough on bough a primrose mountain, you, 
Lucid in the moon, raise Ulieg to the skyfields, 

Youngest green transfused in silver shining through: 
Fairer than the lily, than the wild white cherry: 

Fair as in image my seraph love appears 
Borne to me by dreams when dawn is at my eyelids: 

Fair as in ihe flesh she swims to me on tears. 

Could I find a place to be alone with heaven, 

I would speak my heart out: heaven is my need. 
Every woodland tree is flushing like the dogK'ood, 

Flashing like the whitebeam, s\>(aying like the reed. 
Flushing like the dogwood crimsoj^ in October; 

Streaming like the flag-reed South-west blown; 
Flashing as in guata the sudden-Ughted whitebeam: 

M seem to know what is for heaven alone. 

CmrgeUeredilh IiSsB-iijogl 


yfia ■ Poems of Love 

She can be as wise as we, 

And wiser when she wishes; 
She can knit with cunning wit. 

And dress the homely dishes. 
She can flourish staff or pen, 

And deal a wound that lingers; 
She can talk the talk of men, 

And touch with thrilling fingers. 

Match her ye across the sea. 

Natures fond and fiery; 
Ye who zest the turtle's nest 

With the eagle's eyrie. 
Soft and loving is her soul, 

Swift and lofty soaring; 
Minng with its dove-like dole 

Passionate adoring. 

Such a she who'll match Tvith lae? 

In flying or pursuing, 
Subtle wiles are in her smiles 

To set the world a-wooing. 
She is steadfast as a star, 

And yet the maddest maiden: 
She can wage a gallant war, 

And give the peace of Eden. 

George MertdUh [i8a8-i 


My lady seems of ivory 

Forehead, straight nose, and checks that be 

Hollowed a little mournfully. 

Beala mea Domina ! 

Her forehead, overshadowed much 
By bows of hair, has a wave such 
As God was good to make Ear me. 
Seata mea Domina I 


Praise of My Lady 5^3 

Not greatly long my lady's hair, 
Nor yet with ydlow color fair, 
But thick and crispM wonderfully: 
Beala mea Domina I 

Heavy to make the pale face sad, 
And dark, but dead as thou^ it had 
Been forged by God most wonderfoUy 
Beaia mea Domina ! 

Of some strange metal, thread by thread. 
To stand out from my kdy's head, 
Not moving much to tangle me. 

Beala mea Domina I 
Beneath her brows the lids fall Bki«i 
The lashes a dear shadow throw 
Where I would wish my lips to be. 

. Beata mea Domina I 
Her great eyes, standing far apart, > 

Draw up some memory from her heart, 
And gaze out very mournfully: ■ 

Beaia mea Domhta I 

So beaudftd and kind they are. 
But most times looking out afar. 
Waiting for something, not for me. 

Beata mea Domina I 
I wonder if the lashes long 
Are those that do her bright eyes wrong. 
For always half tears seem to be 

Beata mea Domina 1 
Lurking below the underlid, 
Darkening the place where they He hid : 
If they should rise and flow for nie! 

Beaia mea Domina ! 

Her full Hps being made to kiss, 
Curled up and pensive each one is; 
Hiis makes rae faint to stand and see. 
Btaia mea Domina I 


5^4 Poems of Love 

Her lips are not contented now. 
Because the houra pass so slow 
Towards a sweet time; (pray for mej, 
Beaia mea DotiUna I 

Nay, hold thy peacel for who can tell? 
But this at least I know full well, 
Her lips aie parted longingly, 

Beala mea Domwa I 

So passionate and swift to move, 

To pluck at any flying love, 

That I grow faint to stand and see. 

Be<Ua mat Domina I 
Yea! there beneath them is her chin. 
So 5ne and round, it were a sin 
To fee! no weaker when I see 

Beala mea Domiiia / 
God's dealings; foi with so much care 
And troublous, faint lines wrought in th< 
He finishes her face for me. 

Beala mea Domina I 

Of her long neck what shall I say? 

What things alxiut her body's sway, 
Like a knight's pennon or slim tiee 
Beala mea Domino! 

Set gently waving in the wind; 
Or hei long hands that I may find 
On some day sweet to move o'er me? 

Beala mea Domina J 
God pity me though, if I missed 
The telling, how along her wrist 
Tlie veins creep, dying languidly 

Beala mea Domiiia 1 

Inside her tender paim and lltin. 
Now give me pardon, dear, whsreiD 
My voice is weak and vexes thee. 
^eata mta Pomiita I 

p-hy Google 

Madonna Mia cSc 

Alt men that see her any time, 

I charge you straightly in this rhyme, 
What, and wherever you may be, 
Beaja mca Domina I 

To kneel belore her; as for me 

I ch(Ae and grow quite faint to see 

My lady moving graciously. 

Beaia mea Domina ! 

William Mortis [i8j4-i8g6j 


lJta)ER green apple boughs 
That never a storm will rouse. 
My lady hath her house 

Between two bowers; 
Id either of the twain 
Red roses full of rain; 
She hath for bondwomen 

AH kind of flowers. 

She hath no handmaid fair 
To draw her curled gold hair 
Through rings of gold that bear 

Her whole hair's weight; 
She hath no maids to stand 
Gold-clothed on either hand; 
In all that great green land 

None is so great. 

She hath no more to wear 
But one white hood of vair 
Drawn over eyes and hair, 

Wrought with strange gold, 
Made for some great queen's head, 
Some fair great queen since dead; 
And one strait gown of red 

Against the cold. 


$66 Poems of Love 

Beneath her eyelids deep . v 

Love lying seems asleep, 

Love, swift to wake, to weep, ■ ■ 

To laugh, to gaze; 
Her breasts are like white birds, 
And all her gracious words 
As wat«-grass to herds , 

In the June-days. 

To ber ail dews that fall 
And rains are musical; 
Her flowers arc fed from all. 

Her joys from these; 
In the deep- feathered firs 
Heir gift of joy is hers, 
In the least breath that stii& , 

Across the trees. 

She grows with greenest leaves, i 
Ripens with reddest sheaves. 
Forge U, remembers, grieves. 

And is not sad; 
The quiet lands and skies 
Leave light upon her eyes; 
None knows her, weak or wis^ 

Ot tired or glad. 

None knows, none understajids. 
What Howers are Lke her hands; , 
Though you should search all bode 

Wherein time grows, 
What snows are like her feet, 
Though his eyes bum with heat 
Through gazing on my sweet,— 

Vet no man knows. 

Only this thing is said; 
That white and gold and red, 
God's three chief words, man's bread 
And oil and wine. 


'Meet We No Angels,' Pansie?" 5.67 

♦ Were given her lor dowers, , 

And kingdom of all hours. 
And grace of goodly flowers 
And various vine. 

This is my lady's praise: 
God after many days 
Wrought her in unkoown ways, 

In sunset lands; 
This is my lady's birth; ■ ' ■' 

God gave her might arid mirth. 
And laid his whole sweet earth 

Between her hands. 

Under deep apple boughs 
My lady hath her house; 
She wears upon her brows 

The flower thereof; 
All saying but what God saith 
To her is as vain breath; 
She is more strong than death, 

Being strong as love. 

Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909I 


Cahe, on a Sabbath mom, my aweet, 

In white, to find her lover; 
The grass grew proud beneath her feet, 

The green elm;leaves above her: — 
Meet we no angels, Pansie? 

She saSd, "We meet no angels now"; 

And soft £gbts streamed upon her; 
And with white hand she touched a bou^; 

She did it that great honor:— 
What! meet no angels, pansie? 


^6^ Poems of Love " ' 

O sweet brown hal, brown hair, btowifeyes, 

Down-dropped brown eyes, so tender! 
Then what said I? — gallant rei^ies 
Seem (lattery, and offend her:— 
But, — meet wc no angels, Pansic? 

TlmnatA^lK |[Sj6-iSSq] 


Like apple-blossoms, wiute and red; 

Like hues of dawn, which fiy too soon; 
Like bloom of peach, so softly spread; 

Like thorn of May and rose of June — 
Oh, sweet! oh, fair! beyond compare. 

Are Daphne's cheeks, 
Are Daphne's blushing cheeks, I swear. 

That pretty rose, which comes and goes 

Like April sunshine in the sky, 
I can command it when I choose — 

See how it rises if I cry: 
Oh, sweet! oh, fair! beyond compare. 

Are Daphne's cheeks. 
Are Daphne's blushing cheeks, I swear. 

Ah! when it lies round lips and eyes, 
And fades away, again to spring, 

Nb lover, sure, could ask for more 
Than still to cry, and still to sing: 

Oh, sweet! oh, fair! beyond compare, ' ' 
Are Daphne's cheeks, " 

Are Daphne's bhishing cheeks. I swear. 


Girl of the red mouth, 
Love mc! Love me! 

Girl of the red mouth, 
Love me! 

p:hy Google 

The Daughter of Mendoza 569 

*ns by its curve, I know, 
Love fashionetb his bow, 
And bends it— ^, even sol 

Oh, girl of the red mouth, love mel 

Girl of the blue eye. 

Love me! Love me! 

ar lamps on high; 
world lives in thy 
.ender eye — 
Oh, girl of the blue eye, love me! 

Girl of the swaa's neck, 

Love me! Love me! 
Girl of the swan's neck, 

Love me I 
As a m^ble Greek doth grow 
To bis steed's back of snow, ; 

Thy white neck sits thy shoulder so, — 

Oh, girl of the swan's neck, love mel 

Girl of the low voice, 

Love me! Love met 
Girl of the sweet voice, 

Love met 
Like the echo of a bdl, — 
Like the bubhiihg of a well, — 
Sweeter! Love within doth dwell, — 

Ctfi, girl of the low voice, love me! 

Martin MacDermoU liSis-igos] 


LEND to me, sweet nightingale, 
Vour music by the fountain. 

And lend to me your cadences, 
river of the mountain! 

p:hy Google 

) Poems of Love 

That I may sing my gay bruoette, 
A diamond spark in coral set. 
Gem for a prince's coronet — 
The daughter of Mendoza. 

How brilliant is the morning star, 

The evening star how tender, — 
The light of both is in her eyes, 

Their softness and their splendor. 
But for the lash that shades their light 
They were too dazzling for the sight, 
And when she shuts them, all is night — 

The daughter of Mendoza. 

O ever bright and beauteous one, 
Bewildering and beguiling, 

The lute is in thy silvery tones, 
The rainbow in thy smiling; 

And thine, is, too, o'er hill and dril. 

The bounding of the young gazelle. 

The arrow's flight and ocean's swell- 
Sweet daughter of Mendoza! 

What though, perchance, we no more meet,— , 

What though too soon we sever? 
Thy form will float like emerald light 

Before my vision ever. 
For who can see and then forget 
The glories of my gay brunette— 
Thou art too bright a star to set. 

Sweet daughter of Mendoza! 

Mirabtau Bonaparte Lamar ti?98-i8s(l 


If she be made of white and red, 
' As all transcendent beauty shows; 
If heaven be blue above her head, 
And eajth be golden, as she goes: 
Nay, then thy deftest words restrain; 
TeU not that beauty, it is vain. 


" When First I Saw Her " 

' If ^e be filled with love aod scom, 
As all divftiest natures are; 
If 'twixt her lips such words are boni, 
As can but Heaven or Hell confei'! 
Bid Love be stai, nor ever speak. 
Lest he his own rejection seek. 

Btrberl F. Home [1*64- 


Lend me thy fillet, Lovel 

I would no lopgei see: 
Cover mine eyelids close awhile, 

And iD&ke me blind like thee. 

Then might I pass her sunny face, 
And know not it was fair; 

Then might I hear her voice, nor gue 
Her starry eyes were there. 

Ah! banished so. from stars and sun — 
Why need it be my fale? ' 

If only she might. dream me good 
And wise, and be my mate I 

Lend her thy fillet, Lovel 

Let her no longer see: 
If there is hope for me at all, 

She must be Uind hke thee. 

Eduiard RolBlafd Sili I 


When first I saw her, at the stnix 
The bean of nature in me spoke; 
The very landscape smiled more sweet, 
Lit by her eyes, pressed by her loetg 
She made the stare of heaven mot« bright 
By sleeping under them at night; 
And fairer made the flowers of May 
By being lovdiei than they. 



Poems of Love 

0, soft, BoCt. where the sunahiue spread, 
Dark in the grass I laid my head ; 
And let the lights of earth depart 
To find her image in my heart; 
Then through my being came and went 
Tones of some heavenly inslrumert. 
As if where its blind motions roll 
The world should wake and be a soul. 

George Edmard Woadbtrry [iSss- 


When down the stair at nwrning 

The sunbeams round her float. 
Sweet rivulcls of laughter 

Are rippling in her throat; 
The gladness of her greeting ' 

Is gold without alloy; 
And in the morning sunlight 

I think her name is Joy. 

When in ihe evening twilight 

The quiet book-room lies, 
We read the sad old ballads, 

While from her hidden eyea 
The tears are falling, falling. 

That give her heart rdlef ; 
And in the evening twilight, 

I think her name is Grief. 

My little April lady. 

Of sunshine and of showers 
She weaves the old spring magic, 

And breaks my heart in flowera! " 
But when her moods are ended, 

She nestles like a dove; 
Then, by the pain and rapture, 

\ know her name is Love. 

Henry Van Pyke (1852- 


The Milkmaid 


Across the grass I see her paas; 


Before the spray is white with May, 
Or btooms the eglantine. 

TTie March winds blow. I watch her go: 

it as do^, 

Before the spiay is white with May, 
Or Uooins the eglantine. 

What has ^ not that thoae have got,— 

The dames that walk in silkl 
H she undo her kerchief blue, 
Her neck is white as milk. 
With a hey, Dollyl ho, DoUy! 

Dolly shall be mine, 
Before the spray is white with May, 
Or blooms tJie eglantine. 

Let those who will be proud and chilli 

For me, from June to June, 
My Dolly's words are sweet as curds — 
Her laugh is like a tune;— 
With a hey, Dolly! ho, Dolly! 

Ddly shall be mine. 
Before the spray is white with May, 
Or Uooms the eglantine. 

p:hy Google 

574 Poems of Lovic 

Break, break to hear, crotrus-speart 

O tall Lenl-lilies Same! 
There'll be a bride at Easter-tide, 
And Dolly is her name. 
With a hey, Dolly! ho, Dolly! 

Dolly shall be mine, 
Before the spray Is white with May, 
Or blooms the egtantine. 

Attain Debun [iS4»- 


Tms peach is pink with such a pink 

As suits the peach divinely; 
The cunning color rarely ^read 

Fades to the ydlow findy; 
But where to spy the truest pink 
Is in my Love's soft dieek, I think. 

TTie snowdrop, child of windy March, 

Doth glory in her whiteness; 
Her golden neighbors, crocuses, 

Unenvious praise her brightness! 
But I do know where, out of sight, 
My sweetheart keeps a warmer white. 

NomuutGoie (iMa- 


My Lady's birthday crowns the growing year; 
A flower of Spring before the Spring is here; 
To sing of her and this fair day to keep 
The very Loves forsake their Winter deep; 
Where'er she goes their circling wings they spread, 
And shower celestial roses o'er her head. 
I, too, would chant her worth and dare to raise 
A hymn to what's beyond immortal praiie. 
Go, little verse, and lay in vesture meet 
Of poesy, my homage at her feet. 

BmrySimftoH [iS6S- 

p:hy Google 

Ballade of My Lady*s Beauty J75 

Love, I marvel what you arc! 
Heaven in a pearl of dew, 
Lilies hearted with a star- 

Spring along your forehead shines 

Darting, if the little dust. 
That I know is merely I, 
Have availed to win your trust, 
Let me die. 

Trumbull Stiekney [1874-190^! 

Squire Adah had two wives, they say, 

Two wives had he for his delight; 
He kissed and clypt them all the day, 

And clypt and kissed them all the night. 

Now Eve like ocean foam was wllte, 
And Lilith, roses dipped in wine, 

But thou^ they were a goodly sight, 
No lady is so fair as mine. 

To Venus some folk tribute pay, 

And Queen of Beauty she is bight, 
And Sainte Marie the world doth sway, 

In cerule napery bedight. 

My wonderment these twain invite, 
Their comeliness it is divine; 

And yet I say in their deppitc, 
No lady is so fair as mine. 


576 Poems of Love 

Dame Helen caused a grievous fray, 

For love of her brave men did light, 
The eyes of her made sages fey 

And put their hearts in woeful plight. 

To her no rhymes will I indite, 
For her no garlands will I twine; 

Though she be made of Rowers and light. 
No lady is so fair as mine. 

Prince Eros, Lord of lovely might, 

Who on Olympus doth recline. 
Do I not tell the truth aright? 

No lady is so fair as mine. 

Joyce KUner \iSS6- 


I SEE her in the festal warmth to-night, , 
Her rest all.grace, her motion all delight. 
Endowed with all the woman's arts that please, 
In her soft gown she seems a thing of ease. 
Whom sorrow may not reach or evil bHght. 

To-morrow she wiiJ toil from floor to floor 
To smile upon the unreplying poor, 
To stay the tears of widows, and to be 
Confessor to men's erring hearts ... ah mel 
She knows not I am beggar at her door. 

Robert UndiTwooi Johnson \iin- 


I TOOK her dainty eyes, as well 

As silken tendrils of her hair: 
And so I made a Villanelle! 

I took her voice, a silver bell, 

As dear as song, as soft as pt^er; 
I took her dainty eyes as well. 


Song J77 

It may be, said I, who' can tell, 

Thoe things ^lall be my less deopatf 7 
And so I made a Villanellel 

I took her whiteness virginal 

And from her cheeks two roses rare; ; 
I took her dainty eyes as well. 

I sMd: "It may be possible 

Her image from my heart to tear!" 
And so I made a Villanelle! 

I stole her laugh, most mimical: 

I wrought it in with artful can; 
I took her dainty eyes as well; 
fioA so I made a Villanelle. 

Emtsl Dowson [1867-1000] 


Love, by that loosened hair 
Well now I know 
Whwe the tost Lilith went 
So long ago. 

Love, by those starry eye* 
I understand 

How the sea maidens lure 
Mortals from land. 

Love, by that welling laugh 
Joy claims his own 
Sea-bom and wind-wayward 
Child ol the sun. 

Biist Carman [1861- 


0, UK£ a queen's her itappy tread, 
And like a queen's her golden he«d[ 
But O, at last, 'when tdl is said, 
Her wantttn's he«rt for dtel 

p:hy Google 

57^ Poems of I-ove 

We wandered where the river gleamed 
'Neath oaks that mused and pines that dreamed, 
A wild thing of the woods she seemed, 
So proud, and pure, and free! 

All heaven drew nigh to hear her sing, 
When from her lips her soul took wing; 
The oaks forgot their pondering, 
The pines their reverie. 

And O, her happy, queenly tread, 

And O, her queenly golden beadi 

But O, her heart, when all is said, 

Her woman's heart for mel 

iViiliam WaUoK IiSsB- 


Why are her eyes so bright, so bri^t, 

Why do her lips control 
The kisses of a summer night. 

When I would love her soul? 

God set her brave eyes wide apart 

And painted them with fire; 
They stir the ashes of my heart 
- To embers of desire. 

Her Upa so tenderly are wrou^t 

In so divine a shape. 
That I am servant to ray thought 

And can no wise escape. 

Her body is a flower, her hair 

About her neck doth play; 
I find her colors everywhere, 

They are the pride of day. 

Her little buids are soft, and wbta ' 

1 see her £ng«« move 
I know in very truth that men 

Have <lied for less than love. 

p:hy Google 

Songs Ascending 579 

Ah, dear, live, lovely thing! my eyes 

Have sought her like a prayer; 
It is my better self that cries 

"Would she were not so fair!" 

Would I might forfeit ecstasy 

And find a calmer place. 
Where I might -undesirous see 

Her too desired face: 

Nor find her eyes so bright, ao bright, 

Nor hear her lips unroll 
Dream after dream the lifelong night, 

When I would love her soul. 

Richard MiddkUm ItSSi-iQii] 


Love has been sung a thousand ways — 

So let it be; 
The songs ascending in your praise 
Through all my days 

Are three. 

Your doud-white body first I ^ng; 

Your love was heaven's blue. 
And I, a bird, flew carolling 
In ring oit ring 

Of you. 

Your nearness is the second song; 

When God began to be, 
And bound you strongly, right or wrong, 
With his own thong, 


But oh, the song, eternal, high, 

That tops these two!— 
You live forever, you who die, 
I am not I 


WaUr Bynner [iSSt- 

p:hy Google 

58« poems of Love 


"Oa! Love," they said, "is King of Kings, 

And Triumph is his crown. 
Earth fades in flame before his wings, 

And Sun and Moon bow down." — 
But that, 1 knew, would 4iever do; 

And Heaven is al] too high. 
So whenever I meet a Queen, I said, 

I win not catch her eye. 

"OhI Love," they said, and "Love," they said, 

"The gift of Love is this; 
A crown of thorns about thy head, 

And vinegar to thy klssl"— 
But Tragedy is not for me; 

And I'm content to be gay. 
So whenever I spied a Tragic Iiady, 

I went another way. 

And so I never feared to see 

You wander down the street. 
Or come across the fields to me 

On ordinary feet. 
For what they'd never told me of. 

And what I never knew; 
It was that all the time, my love. 

Love would be merely you. 

Rupert Brooke [1887-1915] 


How do I love you? 

I do not know. 
Only because of you 

Gladly I go. 

Only because of you 

Labor is sweet. 
And all the song of you 
' r Sings in my feeL 


After Two Years 

Only the thoiigfat of you 

Trembles and lies 
Just where the worH begins— 

Under my eyes. 

Uent RutkerfM UcLeod 1.8 


If I was drawn here from a distant place, 
Twas not to pray nor hear our friend's address, 
But, gazing once more oa your winsome face, 
To worship there Ideal Loveliness. 
On that pure shrine that has too long ignored 
The gifts that once I brought so frequently 
I lay this votive offering, to record 
How sweet your quiet beauty seemed to me. 
Enchanting girl, my faith is not a thing 
By futile prayers and vapid psalm-singi]^ 
To vent in crowded nave and pubhc pew. 
My creed is simple: that the world is fair. 
And beauty the best thing to worship there, 
And I confess it by adoring you, 

Alan Sevfv (1888- igifil 


She is all so slight 
And tender and white 

As a May morning. 
She walks without hood 
At dusk. It is good 

To hear her sing. 

It is Cod's will 

That I shall love her still 

As He loves Mary. 
And night and day 
I will go forth to pray 

That she love me. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Love 

She is as gold 

Lovely, and far more cold. 

Do thou pray with me, 
For if I win grace 
To kiss twice her face 

God has done well to me. 

Richard Aldington 


Dear, they are praising your beauty, 
The grass aiid the sky: 
The sky in a silence of wonder, 
The grass in a sigh. 

I too would slug for your pnising, 
Dearest, had I 

Speech as the whispering grass. 
Or the silent sky. 

These have an art for the praising 

Beauty so high. 

Sweet, you are praised in a silence. 

Sung in a sigh, 

Seumas O'SuUivait [1B7Q- 

p:hy Google 



Fosen not yet tbe tried intent 

Forget not yet the great assays. 
The ciue) vrong, the scorniul myt, 
The peonhil p&tience in delays, 
Forget not yet ! 

Forget not! O, forget not this! — 
How long a,go hath been, and is, 
The mind that never meant amiss — 
Forget not yetl 

Forget not then thine own approved, 
The which so long hath thee so loved, 
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved: 
Forget not this! 

Thifmas Wyait [iso3?-iS4i) 


AhI were ^e pitiful as she is fair. 
Or but as toM as she is seeming so. 
Then were my hopes greater than my deq)air. 
Then sB the world were heaven, nothing woe. 


584 Poems of Love 

Ah! were her heart relenting as her hand, 
That seems to melt even with the mildest touch, 
Then knew I where to seat me in a. land 
"Under \Tide heavens, but yet there is iMt audi/ 
So as she shows she seems the budding rose, 
Yet sweeter far than is an eanhly flower; 
Sovereign of beauty, like the spray she grows; 
Compassed she is with thorns and cankered fl6wer. 
Yet were she wiUing to be plucked and worn. 
She would be gjithered, tbou;^ she grew oh thorn. 

Ah! when she sings, all music else be still. 
For none must be compared to her note; 
Ne'er breathed such glee from Philomela's bill. 
Nor from the morning-singer's swelling throat. 
Ah! when she riseth from her blissful bed 
She comforts all the world as doth the sun. 
And at her sight the night's foul \-apor's fled; 
When she is set the gladsome day is done. 
glorious aun, imagine me the west. 
Shine in my arms, and set thou in my breast! 

Robert Q'eau [is6o?-is9iI 


Come live with mc and be my Love, ' 

And we will all the pleasures prove 
That hills aiid valleys, dales and fields, 
Or woods or sleepy mountain yields, 

, . And we will sit upon the rocks, 

And see the shepherds feed their flocks 
By shallow rivers,, lo ^hose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

And I wdl make theef beets of losfs . : 
And a thousand baglant posje^; 
, ' A cap of flowers, and a kfrtle 

'' Bmbnudered all with leaves of myrtle. 


TKe Nymph's Reply cgp 

A gown made of the foiest wool - 
Which from onr pretty lambs we puU; 
Fair-lindd snipers for tiie cold, 
With buckles o( the purest gold. 

A belt of straw and ivy-buds 
With coral clasps and amber studs; ■ 
And if these pleasures may thee move, ' 
Come live with me and be my Love. ' 

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing 
Far thy dHlgtit each May morning: 
If these delights thy mind may move, 
Then live with me and be my Love. 

Chrhiopher ttaiiaiee [1564-15931 


If all the world and love were young, , 
And truth in ev^ry shepherd's toQgue, 
These pretty pleasures might me move 
To live with thee, and be thy Lo¥e, ' 

But Time dnv«s flocks from 6eld tofcU; 
When rivers rage and rodc» grew cold; 
And PfaitonKl becometh dumb; 
The rest complains of cares to come. 

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields 
To WayWarf Winter reckoning' yiekfac . 
A honey tCmgue, a heart of gall, 
Is fancy's ^ring, but sorrow's blL 

Thy gowns, thy show, thy bfeds of toets, 
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,' 
Soon break, soon wither,— soon forgotten, 
In f<dly ripe, in reason rott«n. 

p hyGoogle 

586 Poems of Love 

Thy belt of straw and ivy-budft, 1 

Thy coral clasps and amber studs, — 
All these in me no means can tOove 
To come to tbee and be tby Love. 

But could youth last, and love still bieed, 
Had joys no date, nor age no need, 
Then these delights my mind might move 
To live *ith thee and be tby Love, 


Wrong not, sveet empress <rf my heart. 

The merit ol true passion, 
With thinking that be feels no smart, 

That sues for no compassion. 

Silence in love bennays more woe 
Than words, though ne'er so witty: 

A beggar that is dumb, you know, 
May challenge double pity. 

Then wrong not, dearest to my heait. 

My true, though secret passion i 
He anarteth most that hides his anirt, 

And sues for no compaaston. 

Waller RaUi^ [ij5aP-i6i8l 


1 ISAY thee, lesve, love me bo moic, 

C^ home the heart you gave mel 
I but in vain that taint adore 

That can but will not save me. 
Theee poor half-kisses kill me quitfr— 

Was ever man thus served: 
, Amidst an ocean of delight 

For pleasure to be starvM! 


Her Sacred Bower et-j 

Stow me ma Jnore those snowy breasts 

With azur^ riverets braLiichdd, 
Where, whilst mine eye with plenty ftasts, 

Yet is my thicst not stanchdd; 
O TaidAlus, thy pains ne'er telll 

By me thou art prevented: 
Tis nothing to be plagued in Hell, 

But thus in Heaven toimented. 

Clip me no more in those dear anns, 

Nor thy life's comfort call me, 
these are but too powerful charms. 

And do but more enthral me! 
But see how patient [ am grown 

In all this coil about thee: 
Come, nice thing, let my heart alone, 

I cannot Uve without thee! 

Mkhad Drayton [i 


Where she her sacred bower adorns. 

The riven dearly flow. 
The gFOTcs and meadows swell with flowers, 

The winds all gently blow. 
Her sun-like beauty shines so fair. 

Her spring can never fade: 
Who then can blame the life that strives 

To harbor in her shade? 

Her pace I sought, her love I wooed; 

Her love thought to obtain; 
No lime, no toil, no vow, no faith. 

Her wishM grace can gain. 
Yet truth can tell my heart b hers 

And her will I adore; 
And from that love when I depart. 

Let heaven view me no morel 

p:hy Google 


Poems of Love ■ 

Her roBM with my prmyen abalt q)riiigi 

Aod when her trees I praise, 
Their boughs shall Monom, mallow fruit 

Shall strew her pleasant ways. 
The words of hearty zeal have pow«r 

High wonders to effect; 
O, why should then her princeiy ear 

My words or zeal neglect? 
If she my faith misdeems, or worth, 

Woe worth my hapless fate! 
For though time can my truth reveal, 

That time will come too late. 
And who cati glory in the worth 

That cannot yield him grace? 
Content in everything is not, 

Nor joy in every place. 
But from her Bow^ of joy since I 

Must now excluded be, 
And she will not relieve my cares, 

Which none can help but she; 
My comfort in her love shall dwell, 

Her love lodge in my breast, 
And though not in her bower, yet 1 . 

Shall in her tetn[^e rest. 

Thomat Campim [ f '1619I 



My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love, 

And though the sager sort our deeds reprove, 

Let us not weigh them. Heaven's great lamps do dive 

Into their west, and straight again revive: 

But soon as once set ia our Kttle light, 

Then must we sicq* one ever-during ni^t. 

If all would lead ihcir lives in love like me. 

Then bloody swords and armor should not be; 

No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move, 

Unless alarm came from the Camp of Love: 

* For the original of this poem see page 3817. 


" There Is None, O None'But You " rgg 

But fools do liv&Bxid wAste fbdr little li(^t« 
And seek with paia tbeir eveivdnrmg nigtu. 

When timely death ray life and fortune rads, 

Let not my facarse be vexed with mourning friends; 

But let all l«ve[B, idcti in triumph, come 

And with sweet puitimes grace my h^py lomb: 

And, Lcsbia, close up thou my little light. 

And crown with love my ever=during night. 

Thomas Campion [ ? -1619I 


Love me or not, love her I must or -die; ■ 
Leave her or not, follow her needs must I. 
O that her grace would my wished comforts give! 
How rich in her, how happy should I livel 

AH my desire, all my delight should be 
Her to enjoy, her to unite to me; 
Envy should cease, her would I love alorie: 
Who loves by looks, is seldom true to one. 

Could 1 enchant, and that it lawful were. 
Her would I charm softly that none should hear; 
But love enforced rarely yields firm content: 
So would I love that neither should repent. 

Thomas Campion [ ? -1619] 


Thkse is none, O none but you. 
That from me estrange the sight. 

Whom mine eyes affect to view, 
And thaiiifd ears hear whh ckti^rt;. 

Other beauties others move: 

In you I all graces find; 
Such is the effect of Love, 

To make them happ^ that nee kind. 


Poems of Lov« 

Women in frail beauty tnut, 

Only seem you fair to me: 
Still prove truly kind and just, 

For that may not dissembled be. 

Sweet, afford me then your sight. 

That, surveying all your Io(^, 
Endless volumes I may write, 

And fill the" world with envied books: 

Which, when after-ages view, 

All shall wonder and despair, — 
Woman, to find a man so true. 

Or man, a woiuao half so fairl 

Tbonas Campien I ? -j6igj 


When to her lute Corinna ^ngs. 

Her voice revives the leaden strings, 

And doth in highest notes appear. 

As any challenged echo clear: 

But when she doth of mourning speak, 

E'en with her sighs, the strings do break. 

And as her lute doth Uve or die, 

Led by her passion, so must I! 

For when of pleasure she doth sing. 

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring: 

But if she doth of sorrow speak, 

E'en from my heart the strings do break. 

Thomas Campion [ ? -i6i((I 


Weke my heart as some men's are, thy. errors would Dot 

move me; 
But thy faults 1 curious find, and speak because I love thee: 
Patience is a thing divme, and far, I grant, above me. 


To Celia 


Foes sometiTnes befrisnd us more, oar U&ckcf deeds ob- 
Than the obsequioui bosom-guest with false lespect af- 

Friendship is the Glass of Truth, oui hidden stains detecting. 

When I use of tyes e af reason, 

Thy observer will 1 1 ison; 

Hidden mischief to c e is treason. 

». [ ? -1610I 


Kind are her answers, 
But her performance keeps no day; 
Breaks time, as dancers 
From their own music when they stray. 
All her free favors 

And smooth words wing my hopes in vain. 
O, did ever voice so sweet but only feign? 
Can true love yield such delay, 
Converting joy to pain? 

Lost is our freedom 
When we submit to womcD so: 
Why do we need 'em 
When, in their best, they work our woe? 
There is no wisdom 
Can alter ends by fate prefixed. 
0, why is the good of man with evil niixed? 
Never were days yet called two 
But one night went betwijt. 

Tkomas Campiom [ ? ~i6ig] 


From ■' Tbe Foreit " 

Drkil ta tne only ,wiUt tlwe eyes, 
,1001 >iaiAil,mlll>lfidgfimith|Qune-, 
.'>iOElnve)a.ltiK:biit<)a tlw flifl" 

p-hy Google 

Poems of 'Love 

Tbe Uibst thai fnim the aoul doth rise 

Doth ask a drink divine; 
But might 1 of Jove'a nectar sUp, 

1 would not change for thuie. 

I sent thee late a rosy wreath, 

Not so much honoring thee * 
As giving it a hope that there 

It could not withered be; 
But thou thereon didst only breathe. 

And Sent'st it back to me; 
Since when it grows, and GOidls,'! swear. 

Not of itself but theel , 

Ben Joiuon liS73?-i6j7l 


Fiom "Tlie Forert" 

O, DO not wanton with those eyes, , 

Lest X be sick with seciDg; 
Nor cast them down, but let them rise, 

Lest shame destroy iheir being. 

O, be riot angry with those fires, 
For then their threats will kill me; 

Nor look too kind on my desires, 
For then my hopes will spill me. 

O, do not steep them in thy tears, ' 

For so will sorrow slay me; 
Nur spread them as distract with fears; 

Mine own enough betray me. 

Ben Jon$on [is7j?-i6j7] 

Go and catch a faffing star. 

Gee with child a mandr^e root. 
Tell me where all past years are, 

Or who cleft the Devi's {not; 


The Messj^ .59 

Teach me to hear nwnnaid's singing. 
Or to keep o& envy's stinginK 
And find 

Serves to advance an honest mind. 

If thou be'st born to strange sights. 

Things invisible go see, 
Ride ten thousand days and nights 

Tin Age snow while hairs on thee; 
Thou, when thou retum'st, wilt tell me 
All strange wonders that befell thee, 
And swear 
No where 
Lives a woman true and fair. 

If thou find'st one, let me know; 
Such a pilgrimage were sweet. 
Yet do not; I would not go, 

Though at next door we might meet. ' 
Though she were true when you met her, 
And last till you write your letter, 
Yet she 
Will be 
False, ere I come, to two or three. 

John Dtmne ti^73'i43il 

Send home my long-strayed eyes to me, 
Which, O! too long have dwelt on thee: 
But if fnim you they've learned such ill. 

To sweetly smile. 

And then beguile, 
Keep the deceivers, keep them still. 

Send home my harmless heart again. 
Which no wiworthy tliougfat could stain: 
But i( It has been tau^t by thine 

To forfeit both 

Its word and oath, 
Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine. 

p:hy Google 

y^^ Poems of Love 

Vet send me bfuck my heart and eyes. 

For I'll know all thy faisittes; 

That I one day may laugh, when thou 

Shalt grieve oikI mourn — 

Of one the acom. 
Who proves as false as thou art nov- 

John Donne liSTJ-iCjiJ 

Ladies, though to your conquering eyes 
Love owes his chiefest v-'---'- ' 

And borrows those bright arms from you 
With which he does the world subdue, 
Yet you yourselves are not above 
The empire nor the griefs of love. 

Then rack not lovers with disdain, 
Lest Love on you revenge their pain:. 
You ate not free because you're fair: 
The Boy did not his Mother spare. 
Beauty's but an oflensivc dart: 
It is no armor for the heart. 

George Eiheregt [i6j5?-i6gil 


It is not, Celia, in our power 
T« say how long our love will last; . 

It may be we within this hour 

May lose those joys we now do taate: 

The Blessed, that JinmorUl be. 

From change in love are only free. 

Then since we mortal lovers are, 
Ask not horr long out lov« will ket; 

Bat while it does, kt us take core 
Each minute be with pleasuce passed t 

Were it not madness to deny 

To live because we're sure to die? 

Gwrti Eilurtsi Ii6as?-i69i| 

p-hy Google 


What consaence, say, is it in thee. 

When I a heart had one. 
To take awaythai heart from me. 
And to retain thy own? 

For shame or pity now indine 

To play a loving piart; 
Either to send me kindly thine. 

Or give me back my heart. 

Covet not both; but if thou dosti 

Resolve to part with neither. 
Why, yet to show that thou art just, 

Take me and mine together! 

Robert Bjcrrick (1391-1674) 


Bid me to live, and I wiU live 

Thy Protestant to be; 
Or bid me love, and 1 will give 

A loving heart to thee. ' ' 

A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 

A heart as sound and free 
As in the whole world thou canst find. 

That heart I'll give to thee. 

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay 

To honor thy decree; 
Or bid it languish quite away, 

And 't shall do so for thee. 

Bid me to weep, and I will weep, 

While I have eyes to see; 
And having none, yet will I ke^ 

A heArt to veep for thee. 

p:hy Google 

596 Poems of Love 

Bid me despair, and I'll despair. 
Under that cypress tree; 

Or bid me die, and I will dare 
E'en death, to die for thee'. 

Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 

The very eyes of me; 
And hast coinmand of every p^t, 

To live and die for thee. 

SobeH Herriek [1591-16741 


Why I lie about thy wrist, 
Julia, this silken twist; 
For what other reason is't 
But to show Ihee how, in part, 
Thou my pretty captive art? 
But thy bond-slave is my heart: 
Tis but sQk that bindeth thee, 
Snap the thread and thou art free; 
But 'tis otherwise with m?: 
I am bound and [ast bound, so 
That from ihee I cannot go; 
I[ I could, I would not so. 

Robert Uerrick |is9i- 


Sweet western wind, whose luck it b. 

Made rival with the air. 
To give Terenna'slip a kiss. 

And fan her wanton hair: 

Bring me but one, I'll promise thee, 

Instead of common showers. 
Thy wings shall be embalmed by me, 

And all beset with flowers. 

R^ieU Btrrick (ts9t-i674l 


Persuasions to Enjoy 


When Uk>u, poor Excommunicate 

From all the joys of Love, shalt see 
The fuU reward and glorious fate 

Which my strong faith shall purchase me, 
Then curse thine own Inconstancy. 

A fairer hand than thine shall cure 

That heart whidi thy fabe oaths did wound; 

And to my eoul a soul more pure 
Than thine shall by Love's hand be bwmd. 
And both with equal glory crowned. 

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain 

To Love, as I did once to thee: 
When all thy tears shall be as v^ 

As mine were then: for thou stuilt be 

Daomed for thy false Apostasy. 

ThomtM Carew [1598?- 16 





Or, if that golden fleece must grow 

For ever free from agM snow;. 

If those bright suns must know no shade, 

Nor your fresh beauties ever fade: 
Then fear not, Celia, to bestow 
What, still being gathered, still must grow. 

Thus either Time his sickle brings 
In vain, or else In vain his wings. 

TkmuuCaria [isgif-iftzg?] 


59^ Poems of Love 


Give me moie love, or more disdain: 
The torrid, or the frozen zone i 

Briog equal ease unto my pain; 
The temperate affords me none: 

Either extreme, of love or hate, 

Is sweeter than a calm estate. 

Give me a storm; if it be love. 
Like Danaif in that golden abowcc, 

I swim in pleasure; if it prove 
Disdain, that tonent will devour 

My vulture-hopes; and he's possessed 

Of heaven, that's but from heU released. 

Then crown my joys, or cwe iny pain : 
Give me more love, or more disdain. 


Ye little birds that sit and sing 

Amidst the 9hady valleys. 
And see how Phillis sweetly walks ' 

Within her garden-alleys; 
Go, pretty birds, about her bower; 
Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower; 
Ah me! metbinks I see her frown! 
Ye pretty wantons, warble. 

Go tell her through your chirping bills, 

As you by me are bidden. 
To her is only known my love, 

Which from the world is hidden. 
Go, pretty birds, and tell her so, 
See that your notes strain not too Ipw, 
For still mcthtnks I see her frown; 
Ye pretty wantons, warble. 

p:hy Google 

' How Can the Heart Forget Her" 599 

Go tune your voices' hatiuony 

And sing, I am her lover; 
Strain loud and sweet, that every note 

With sweet content may naove her: 

And she that hath the sweetest voice. 

Tell her I will not change my choice: 

— Yet still methinks I see her frown! 

Ye pretty wantons, warble. 

O fly! make haste! see, see, she falls 

Into a pretty slumber! 
Sing round about her rosy bed ^ 

That waking she may wonder: 
Say to her, 'tJs her lover true 
That sendeth love, to you, to you I 
And when you hear her kind reply, 
Return with pleasant warblings. 

Thomas Beyuiood | ? -1650?] 


At ber fair hands how have I grace entreated' 

With prayers oft repeated! 

Vet still my love b thwarted : 

Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted — 

Say, shall she go? 

Ono, no, no, no, no! 
She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted. 

How often have my ngtn dedared my uigitish, 
Wherein I daily lanfuish! ■ ' 

Yet still ^e doth procore it: 
Heart, let her go, for I cannot endure it — 

Say, shall she go? 

O no, no, no, no, no! 
She gave the wound, and she alone mu9C cure it 

But shall I sdll a true aSection owe her, 
Which prayers, ^ghs, bears do show hor, 


JO poems of Love 

And shall she still disdain meP 

Heart, let her go, if tliey no gnure can gain me — 

Say, shall she go? 

no, no, no, no, no! 
She made me hers, and hers she will retain me. 
But if the love that hath and still doth bum me 
No love at length return me, 
Out of my thoughts I'll set her: 
Heart, let her go, O heart I pray thee, let herl 

Say, shall she go? 

no, no, no, no, no! 
. Fixed in the heart, how can the heart forget her? 

Francis Davison [B. i6oi| 

Ye blushing virgins happy are 

In the chaste nunnery of her breasts — 
For he'd profane so chaste a fair, 

Whoe'er should call them Cupid's nests. 
Transplanted thus how bright ye growl 

How rich a perfume do ye yield! 
In some dose garden cowslips so 

Are sweeter than in the open field. 
In those white cloisters live secure 

From the rude blasts of wanton breath! — 
Each hour more innocent and pure, 

Till you shall wither into death. 
Then that which living gave you room. 

Your glorious sepuldier shall be. 
There wants no marble for a tomb 

Whose breast hath marble been to me, 

WiUiam H<MtnUm |.i6<>s~)654] 

Tib not your beauty can engs^e 

My wary heart ; 
The sun. in all his pride and rage, 

Has not that art; 

p:hy Google 

" When, Dearest, I But Think of Thee" 6oi 

And yet he shines u bcifht as you, 
If brightness could okti souls subdue. 

Tb not the pretty things you say, 

Nor those you write. 
Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey: 

For that delight. 
The graces of a well-taught mind. 
In some of our own sex we find. 

No, Flavia, 'tis your love I fear; 

Love's surest darts, 
TTiose which so seldom fail him, are 

Headed with hearts: 
Their very shadows make us yield; 
Dissemble well, and win the field! 

Edmutul Waller {t6o6-t6S7] 


Love not me for comely grace, 
For my pleasing eye or face; 
Nor for any outward part. 
No, nor for a constant heart: 

For these may [ail or turn to ill. 

So thou and I shall sever. 

Keep, therd(»T, a tnie woman's eye. 

And love me Mill, but know not why; 

So hast thou the sune reason stiU 

To doat upon me ever. 



Whek, dearest, I bnt tyak of thee, 
Methinks alt thinjp that knrdy be 

Are f»e9ent, and my soul ddif^ted: 
For beauties that fron woitii ariae. 
Are like the grace of deities. 

Still present with ts, though uaugbted. 


Poems of Love 

Thus while I sit and sigh the day 
With all his borrowed li^ts away, 

Till night's black wings do overtake me. 
Thinking on thee, thy beauties then, 
As sudden lights do sleepy men. 

So they by their bright rays awake me. 

Thus absence dies, and dying proves 
No absence can subsist with loves 

That do partake oE fair perfection: 
Since in the darkest night they may 
By love's quick motion find a way 

To see each other by reflection. 

The waving sea can with each flood 
Sathe some high promont that hath stood 

Far from the main up in the river: 
O think not then but love can do 
■ 'As tnucbi'fot that'sanoceoD too. 

Which flows not every day, but everl 

John Sticklmt (1609-1641! 


O TOK some honest lover's ghost, 
Some kind mibodied poet 

Sent from the shades belowl 

I strangely loag to know 
Whether the noble chaplets wear 
Those that their mistress' scorn did bear 

Or those that were used kindly. 

For whatsoe'er they tell us here 

To make thode sufferings dear, 

'Tu^ there, I fear, be found 

'Hiat to the being crowaed * 

To lave loved alone will not sufiice, 

Unless we also have been wise 
And have our loves enjoyed. 

p:hy Google 

To Chloe 

What posture can we think him in 
That, h«re nnloved, again 
Departs, and's thither gone 
Where each sits by his own? 
Or how can that Elysium be 
Where I my mistress stiQ must see 
Circled in other's anna? 

For there the judges all are just, 




Chloe, why wish you that your years 
Would Ijackwards run, till they met mine? 

That perfea likeoesE, which endeais 
Things unto things, might us conbine. 

Our ages so in date agree, 

That twins do differ more than we. 

There are two births; the cne when light 
First strikes the new swakeaed sense; 

The Other when two souls unite, 
And we must count our tite from thence: 

p:hy Google 

6o4 Poems of Love 

When you loved me and I loved you 
Then both of us were bom aaew. 

Love then to us new souls did give 

And in those souls did plant new powers; 

Since when another life we live. 
The breath we breathe is his, not ours: 

Love makes those young whom age doth chill. 

And whom he finds young keeps young still. 

Love, like that angel that shall call 

Our bodies from the ^cnt grave, 
Unto one age doth raise us all; 

None too much, none loo little have; 
Nay, that the difference may be none, 
He makes two not alike, but one. 

And now since you and I are such, 
Tell me what's yours, and what is mine? 

Our eyes, our cars, our taste, smell, touch, 
Do, like our souls, in one combine; 

So, ^y thb, I as well may be 

Too old for you, as you for mc. 

Wiiliam Carhirigki I1611-1643I 


My dear and only Love, I pray 

This little world of thee 
Be governed by no other sway 

Than purest monarchy; 
For if confusion have a part. 

Which virtuous louls abhor. 
And hold a synod in thybearL., 

I'll never love thee in«e. 

Lilce Alexandei I will reign. 

And I mill reign alone; 
My thoughts did evermoM disdain 

A rival on my thnHi9- 


To Althca, From Prison fioj 

He either feafs tns fate too much. 

Or hb deserts are small, 
That dares not put it to the toOch 

To gain or lose it all. 

But I must lule and govera still, 

And always give the law. 
And bftve each subject at my will 

And all to stand in awe. 
But 'gainst my batteriea if I find 

Tbou kick, or vex me sore. 
As that thou set me up a blind, 

I'll never love thee more! 

Or in the empire of thy heart. 

Where I should solely be. 
If othere do pretend a part 

And dare to vie with me. 
Or if committees thou erect, 

And go on sitch a score. 
I'll laugh and sing at thy n^ect, 

And never love thee more. 

But if thou wilt be faithful, then, 

And constant of thy word, 
I'll make thee glorious by my pen 

And famous by my sWord; 
111 serve thee in such noble ways 

Were never heard before; 
I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, 

And love thee evermore. 

Jamts Graham [1611-1650] 


Wben Love with uncan&i£d wings 
Hovera wtohin my gates. 

And my divine Althca brings 
To whisper at the gr^es; 


Poems of Love 

When 1 tie tangled in ber hair 

And fettered to her eye, 
The birds that wanton in thoajr ' 

Know no such liberty. 

When flowing cups nm swiltly round 

With no allaying Thames, 
Our careless heads with roses bound, 

Our hearts with loyal flames; 
When thirsty grief in'wtne we steep. 

When healths and draughts go fret — 
Fishes that tipple in the deep 

Know no such liberty. 

When, like committed linnets, I 

With shriller throat shall sing 
The sweetness, mercy, majesty. 

And glories of my King; 
When I shall voice aloud bow good 

He is, how great ^ould be. 
Enlarged winds, that curl the 9ood, 

Know no such liberty. 

Stone walls do not a prison make, 

Nor iron bars a cage; 
Minds innocent and quiet Uke 

That for an hermitage; 
If I have freedom in my love 

And in my soul am free, 
Angels atone, that soar above. 

Enjoy such liberty. 

Richard Landau I161S 


Tis not her birth, her friends, nor yet ber treasure, 

Nor do I covet her for sensual pleasure. 

Nor for that old morality 

Do I love her, 'cause ri>e loves me. 

p:hy Google 

To His Coy Mistress 607 

Sure he that lores hia lady 'cause-she's fAir, 
DeUghts his eye, so lores hinseir, not h». 
Somethii^ there is moves me to lavt^ and I 
Do know I love, but koow not how, nor why. 

AkKomkr Btdim [i«a<i-i666] 

Had we but world emmgh, aod date, 1 
This coyness, Lady, were no crime. 
We would sit dcwn and think wbicb way. 
To walk and pass our long love's day. 
TTiou by the Indian Ganges' side 
Shouldat rubies find; I by the tide 
Of Hnmber would .complain. I would 
Love you ten years before the Flood, 
And you should, if you please, refuse 
Till the conversion of the Jews. 
My vegetable love should grow 
Vaster than empires, ajid more slow; 
An hundred years should go to praise 
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; 
Two hundred to adore each breast, 
But thirty thousand to the rest; 
An age at least to ever>- part. 
And the last age should show your heart. 
For, Lady, you deserve this state, 
Nor would I love at lower rate. 
But at my back I always hear 
Time's wingSd chariot hurrying near; 
And yonder all before us lie 
Dcaerts of vast eternity. 
Thy beauty shall no more be found, 
Nor, in thy mari»le vault, shall sound. 
My echoing song; then worms shall try 
That long preserved virpnity, 
And your quaint h«mor turn to dust,; 
'And into a^es all my lust: 
The gilave's a fine and private pla^, , 
But aaaty I think, do there embrace. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Love 

Now therefore, white the youthful hue 
Sits on thy skin like morning dew. 
And while thy williog soul transpires 
At every pore with inst&nt fires, 
Now let us sport us while we may. 
And now, like amorous birds of prey. 
Rather at once our time devour 
Than languish in his siow-cbapt power. 
Let us roll all our strength and EdI 
Our sweetness up into one ball, 
And tear our pleasures with rough strife 
Through the iron gates of life; 
Thus, though we cannot make our sun 
Stand still, yet we will make him run. 

Andrew UantB I1611-167SI 


Though when I loved thee thou wert fair, 

Thou art no longer so; 
These glories all the pride they wear 

Unto opinion owe. 
Beauties, like stars, in borrowed luster shine; 
And 'twas my love that gave thee thine. 

The flames that dwelt within thine eye 

Do now with mine expire; 
Thy brightest graces fade and die 

At once with my desire. 
Love's fires thus mutual influence return; 
Tiiine cease to shine, witen mine to bum. 

TTien, proud' Celinds, hope do more 

To be implored or wooed, 
Since by thy scorn thou dost restore 

Thy wealth my love l>est<rwed: 
And thy despised disdain too late shall find 
That none ate fair but wtw arc kind. 

TJlomaa 5toa^ [<e*s-t«78| 

p:hy Google 


Love in thy youth, fair maid, be wise, ■ 

Old Time will make thee colder, * 
And though each morning new arise, 
Yet we each day grow older. 

Thou as heaven ail tail and young. 
Thine eyes like twin stars shining; 

But ere another day lie Sprung, 
All these will be declining; 

Then winter comes with all his fean^ .. 
, And all thy sweets shall borrow; 
Too late then vrilt thou sko^ei' thy teai^ 
And I, too late, ahUl ■ornKw. , 



When, Celia, roust my old day set. 

And my young morning rise 
In beams of joy so bri^t as yet . ' ! 

Ne'er blessed a lover's eyes? 
My state is more advanced than when 

I first attempted thee: 
I sued to be a servant then^ 

But now td be made free. 

I've served ray time faithful and true, 

Expecting to be placed 
In happy freedom, as my due. 

To all the joys thou hast: 

lU husbandry in love is such 
A scandal to love's power, ' 

We ought hoi to misspend so much 
As one ptwr short-lived hour. ' '^ 

Vet think nbt sweet, I'm weary ffojffl, 
That I ;»etond such hnste ; , i -^ 

Sincft noo^ tO' surfeit e'er was,^kiiowqj( {' 
Befanhelmj'B tut?: , . , ,.; , 


Poems of Love 

My infant love could humbly wait 
When, young, it scared knew how 

To plead; but grown to man's estate, 
He is impatient now. 

ChurUf CoUon (1630 -1687I 


Not. Cclia, that I jueter am 

Or better than the rest I 
For I would change each hour, like them. 

Were not my heart at rest. 

But I am tied to very thee 

By every thou^t I have; 
Thy face I only care to see, 

Thy heart I only crave. 

All that in woman is adored 

In thy dear self I fii>d — 
For the whole sen can but afiord 

The handsome and the kind. 

Why then should I seek furtJier slor^. 

And still make love anew? 
When change itseK can give no more, 

'Tiseasy to be true I 

Ckarlm SedUy [1639 -i7o"i 


My dear mistress has a h^^t 

Soft as th(Ke kind loftka she gave me; 
When withjovp's rcsistje^ art, 

And her eyes, she did enslave me. 
Btit her constancy's sowcsk. 

She's so wild and apt to vandcr, 
Thtit my jeaknla hdartwould break 

Should we liv« Mte d«y »i 

P:hy Google 

Constancy ' 6ii> 

Melting Jbjv'alto^ ^BT movw, 

Killing plea8acee,vvDtiiidii«bliSBed; ' 
She can dress bet ejes in love, ■ 

And her lips can arm with kissesi 1 
Angels listen when she speaks; 

She's my dehght, aU mankind's wwd^; 
But my jealous heart wouldbtcsk ■ \ 

Should we Uv« one day asunder. ' 

Jolm WUmot (1647-1680! 


Au my past life is mine no morfi 

The flying Jiours are gone. 
Like transitory dreams given o'er, 
Whose images are kept in store 

By memory alone. 

The dme that fa to come is not J ' 

How can it then be mine? 
The present moment's all my lot; 

And that, as fast as it is got, 
PhiUis, is only Ihme. 

Then talk not 0/ incoDfitancy, ,- 
False h^ts, and broken vows;.- ,._ , 

If I by miracle can be ■ 

This live-long minute true to tioe^ , , ^ 
Tis all that-Heaven allows, 

/eftn Wilmot [i64»-i68o] 


I CANNOT change as ©thee* do, , 

■nioughyou.unjuatlyseiMn; ' , ,^^ ,/ 
Sin<» that poor swaJto; that sigbsifor jfjm 

For you akae was bora. 1 1 .i 1 -i 

No, Phillis, no; yoorfeariilo wwCv. H 

Asurerwiyl'li.tiy;.!:i. ■'-,., in'-'. 
And, to revenge mytf girted JoWfi i,' 
1 Willsi^.lDT»«nanddie. 


Poems of Love 

When killed with grief Am/nUa lies, 

And you to mind shall call 
The sighs that now unpitied rise, 

The tears that vainly iaH — 
That welcome hour, that ends this tmatt. 

Will then begin your pain; 
For such a faithfid tender heart 

Can newer break in vain, 

John Wiimot I1547-1680] 


Too late, aJas! I must confess, 

You need not arts to move me; 
Such charms by nature you possess, 

Twere madness not to love ye. 

Then spare a heart you may suiprise. 

And give my tongue the glory 
To boast, though my unfaithlul e)«s 

Betray a tender story. 

JolmWiimt [164J-16S0] 

Come, Celia, let's agree at last 

To love and h've in quiet; 
Let's tie the knot so very (aat 

That time shall ne'er untie it. 
Love's dearest joys they never prove. 

Who free from quarrda live ; 
'TIs sure a godlike part of love . 

Each other to forgive. 

When least I seemed concerned I took 

No pleasure, nor had rest; 
And when I feigned an angry look, 

Alas!' I loved you best. 
Say but the same to me, yonll lind 

How Ue£t will be our fate; . . '' 

Sure to be grateful, to be kind, 

Pan never be too late. 

■.JohB-S»tfiM (1648-1711} 


'False Though She Be" 61-3 


I DID but look and love awhile, . 

'Twas but for one half-hour; 
Then to resist I had no will, 

And now I have no power. 

To sigh and wish is all my easej 

Sighs which do heat impart 
Edou^ to melt the coldest ice, 

Yet cannot warm your he^t. 

O would your pity give my heart 

One comer of your breast, 
TwonW learn o£ yours the winning art, 

And quickly steal the rest. 

Thoittas OlTBoy [1653-1685] 


Only tell her that 1 kwe; 

Leave the rest to her and Fate: 
Some kind planet iiom atM>ve 
May perhaps her pity move: 

Lovers on their stars must wait. — 
Only tell her that I lovel 

Why, O why should I despair! 

Mercy's pictured in her eye: 
If she opce vouchsafe to hear, 
Welcome Hope and farewell Fearl 

She's too good to let me die. — 
Whyj why should I de^iair? 

John Cutis 11661-1707] 


False thou^ die be to me and love, 

111 ne'a pursue revenge; 
For atfll the channer I approve, 

Though I deplore her change. 

p:hy Google 

614 Poems of Lov<J : 

In hours of bliss we oft have met: 

They colild Dot always l«st; 
And though the present I regref, 

I'm grateful for the past. 

WiUiam Contreti [1670-1729] 


From "Tbe Caulma Lovtn" 

Sn-viA, let US from the crowd if t«e, -, 

For what to you and me 
(Who but each other do desire) 

Is all that here we see? 

Apart we'll live, though not aloQc; 

For who aicm can call 
Those ^o in deserts live with one 

If in that one they've aU? 

The world a vast meander is, 

Where hearts confusedly stray; 
Wher^ few do hit, whilst tbauiaiidi miss, 

The bappy nmtual way. 

AmtePinMi ? -iT"oI 


Why, lovely charmer, tell me why. 
So very kind, and yet so shy? 
Why does that cold, forbiddmg air 
Give damps of sorrow and despair? 
Or why that smSle my souT subdue, 
And kindle up my flames aniw? ' 

In vain you strive with all your ail. 
By turns to fire and fixeze ray ^^rt; 
When I behold a face so fair, 
So sweet a look, so soft an air, 
My ravished soul is charmed all o'er, 
I cannot love thee less or more. 



A Soqg'iTo Arapret 615 


Moke love or more disdain I crave; 

Sweet, be not still indifferent: 
O send me quickly to my grave. 

Or else afford me more conlenti 
Or love or hate me more or less, 
For love abhors all lukewarm ness. 

Give me a tempest if 'twill drive 
Me to the place where I would be; 

Or if yoa'll hawe nje alill aliye. 
Confess you will be kind to me. 

Give hopes of bliss or dig my grave: ' 

More love or more disdain I crave. 

CharUs Webbe [c. i6j8] 


If 1 were deud, and, in my place, ' 

Some fresher youth designed 

To warm thee, with new fires; and grace 
Those arms I left behind: 

Were he as faithful as the Sun, 
That's wedded to the Sphere; ' 

His blood as chaste and teonperate run. 
As April's mildest tear; 

Or were he rich; and, with his heap 
And spacious share of earth, 

G>uld make divine affection cheap. 
And court his golden birth; 

Foe all these arU, I'd not. believe 
(Nol though he should be thine!), 

The ml^ty Amorist coiild give 
So rich a heart a£ mi^el 


Poems of Love 

Fortune and beauty thou might'st find, 

And greater men than 1; 
But my true resolved mind 

They never shall come nigh. 

For I not fof an hour did love, 

Or for a day desire, 
But with my soul had from above 

This endless holy fire. 

Hairy Vauglmn [ib22~; 


On Richmond Hill there lives a lass 
More bright than May-day mom. 

Whose charms all other maids surpass, — 
A rose without a thorn. 

Tia& lass so neat, with smiles so sweet. 
Has won my right good -frill i 

I'd crowns resign to call her mine. 
Sweet lass of Richmond Hill. 

Ve zephyrs gay, that. fan the air, 
And wanton through the grove, 

O, whisper to my charming fair, 
I die for her I love. 

How happy will the shepherd be 

Who calls this nymph his own! 
O, may her choice be fixed on me! 

Mine's fixed on her alone. 

James Vplon |i670- 


Let my voice ring out and over the earth, 
Throui^ all the grief and strife. 

With a golden joy in a silver mirth: 
Thank God for life! 

p:hy Google 

Amynta ■ eiy-' 

Let my vokr^ sveU out through the gnat abyss 

To the azure dome above. 
With a chord of faith in the haip of fajise: - > 

Tluok God fw Love! 

Let my v<Mce tbrW out beneath and above, 

The vhcde wcold through: 
my Love and Life, O my Life and Love, 

Thank God for youl 

Jama Thamion [1834-1SS1I 


Give a man a horse he can ride, 

Give a man a boat he con sail; 
And lus ranlc and wealth, his strength and health, 

On sea nor shore shall fail. 

Give a man a pipe he can smoke. 

Give a man a book he can read: 
And his home is bright irith a calm deliglit. 

Though the room be poor indeed. 

Give a man a girl he can love, . > 

As I, O my love, love thee; 
And his heart is great with the pulao of Fate, 

At borne, on land, on sea. 

JoMei Thomam hin^iHi] 

My sheep I neglected. I broke my sheep-crook, 
And all the gay haunts of my youth 1 forsook ) 1 
No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wwe; 
For ambition, I said would soqn cure me of lova. 

Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do? 
Why Icit I Amynta? Why bioke I myyow? 
Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 
And 111 nander Stom If ve ancf Amynta ao more. 


1 ^ Poems of Love 

lliroagh regions remote in vain do I rove, 
And bid the wide ocean secure me from love! 
O fool ! to imagine that aught could subdue 

A love so well founded, a pasuon so true! 

Alas! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine; 
Poor shepherd, Amynta can never be thine: 
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, ' - 
The moments neglected iietum not agadn. 

GilberimM [iT>»-i777l 


Nancy, wilt thou go with me. 

Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town: 
Can silent glens have charms for thee, ' 

The lowly cot, the russet gown? 
No longer dressed in silken aheea, 

Mo longer decked with jewds rare, i 
Say, canst thou quit each courtly soeoe 

Where thou wert fahreet of the fair? 

Nancy! when thou'rt far away, 

Wilt thou not cast a wish belmid? 
Say, canst thou face the parching ray, 

Nor shrink before the wintry wind? 

01 can that soft and gentle mien 

Extremes of hardship learn to bear. 
Nor, sad, regret each cotirUly scene 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

O Nancyl canst thou love so true, 

Through perils keen mtb me to go, 

■Or when thy awain mishap ahaH rue, 

To share with him the pang of woe? 

Say, should diaeaae or pain befall, 

wot thou assume the nurSe's care; 

Nor wistful those gay stents lecaJI 

Where thou wert fiiirest of the fair^ 


Cavalier's Song' fij^, 

And when at last thy love shall die. 

Wilt thou receive fais parting breatli? 
Wilt tbou repress each struggling sigh. 

And cheer with smiles the bed of death? 
And wilt thou o'er hja breathleas clay 

Strew flowers and drop the tender tear? 
Nor lien ng^t those scenes so gay 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

T)io»as Percy (1719-181 

It doughty deeds my lady please, 
Right soon I'll mount my Steed; 
And strong his arm and fast his seat, 

That bears frae me the meed. 
Ill wear thy colors in my cap, 

Thy picture in my heart; -' 

And he that bends not to thine eye 
Shall rue it to bis smartl 
Then tell me how to woo thee. Love; ' 

O tell me how to woo thee! 
For thy dear sake nae care 111 take, ' 
Though ne'er another trow me. 

If gay attire dellgbt thine eye 

111 dight me in array; 
I'll tend thy chamber door tUl night, 

And squire thee all the day. 
If sweetest sounds can win thine ear, 

These sounds I'll strive to catch; 
Thy voice I'll steal to woo thysel', ' ' 

That voice that nane can match. i 

Then tell me how to woo thee, Love; 

O tell me bow to woo theel 
For thy dear sake nae care I'll take 
Thou^ ne'er another trow me. 

But if fond love thy heart can gain, . ' ' 
I never broke a vow; [ 

Nae diaidfen lays her skaith ta me, .. 
I nevenloved but you. 


620' Poems of Love 

For you alone I ride Ihe ring, 

For you I wear the Hoe; 
For yo« alone I strive to sing, 
O tell me how to woo! 
Then tefl me how to woo thee, I^vc; 

tell me how to woo thee! 
For thy dear sake nae care I'lltake 
Though ne'er another trow me. 

Robert Ctintiinghani«-Grakant [ ? -i7g7?I 


Alas, that my heart is a lute, 
Whereon you have learned to play! 
For a many years it was mute, 

Until one summer's day 
You took it, am! touched it, and made it thrill. 
And it thrills and throbs, and quivers stilll 

I had known you, dear, so long! 

Yet my heart did not tell rac why 

It should burst one morn into song. 

And wake to new life with a cry. 
Like a babe that sees the light of the sun, 
And for whom this great wM'Id has Just beguti. 

Your lute is endirined, cased in, 

Kept close with love's magic key, 

So no hand but yours can win 

And wake it to minstrelsy; 
Yet leave it not silent too long, nor ^one, 
Lest the strings dwuld break, and the musif be done. 
Ahiu Barnard [iTso-iSis] 

From •T!iel>ueiii»" 
Had I a heart for falsehood framed, 

I ne'er could injute ymi; 
For though your tongue no promise claimed. 
Your channs woidd make me true: 


" O Were My. Love Yon Lilac Fair " 6li 

Then, lady, dread not here deceit. 

Nor fear to auSer wrong. 
For friends in all the aged you'll meet, , 

And loven in the young. 

But when diey find thst youh&ve bletfed 

Another with your heart, 
They'll bid asfuring pasaicin rest, ' 

And act a brother's pait: 
Then, lady, dread not here deceit i ' 

Nor fear to sufier wrong; 
For fiieods in all the aged you'll meet. 

And brothers in the young. 

Richard BrinsUy Sheridan [i75i'i8i6) 


My Damon was the first to vake 

Hie goitke flame that cannot die; 
My Damon is the last to take 

The faithful bosom's softest si|h: 
The lite betweeo is nothing worth, 

O cast it from thy thought awayt 
Think of the day that gave it birth. 

And this its sweet rctunung day. 

Buried be all that has been done. 

Or say that naught is done am is s; 
For who the dangerous path can shun 

In sudi bewildering worid as this? 
But love can every fault fOTgiTe, 

Or with a tender look reprove j 
And now let naught in memory livie 

But that we meet, and that we love. 

George Crabbt Ii7S*-i83»l 

O WEkE mj Love yon like fair^ ' 

Wi ' purple blossoms to the spring. 
And I a bird to ahdter there, 

When wearied on my little wing; 


Poems of Love 

How I wad mourn when it was (om 

By aututnn wild and winter nidel 
But I Vad sing on wanton wing 

When youthfu' May its Uoon) Teuewed. 
-O gin my Love were yoa red rose 

That grows upon the castle wa', 
And I mysel a dn^> o' dew, 

Into hei bonnie breast to fa'; 
there, beyond expressioa blest, 

I'd feast on beauty a' the m^t; 
Sealed on her silk-saft Haulds to nst, 

Till fleyed awa' by Fhc^Us' li^t. 

&>btrt Bums [i759-it»4 


Bonnie wee thingi caonie we* tbingi 

Lovely wee thing! weit thou mine, 
I wad wear thee in my boaooi. 

Lest my jewel I ^ould tine. 
Wishfully I io(A, and languish 

In that bonnie (ace o' thine; 
And my heart it stounds wi' angui^. 

Lest my wee thing be oa mine. 
Wit and grace, and love and beauty, 

In ae constellation shine; 
To adore thee b my duty. 

Goddess o' this soul o' mine! 
Bonnie wee thing, caaoie wee thing. 

Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, 
I wad wear thee in my bosom, 

Lest my jewel I should tine. 

Robert Burns [i7S9-'79*] 

Ah, what kteUs the BCqttered racel 

Ah, what the foim divinel 
What every virtue, every gtaCel : 

Rose Ayltner, all wcie thine. . 

p:hy Google 

"Take Back the Vir^n Pi^fc" 623 

Rose Aytmer, wlioni thdseniffiefu] eyes 

May weep, but never see, 
A night of memories and sigh& 

I consecrate 10 thee. 

WaiUr SuBage Landor (1771-1864] 



Take back the Virgin Page 

White and unwritten still; , 
Some hand more ca]m and sage 

The leaf must fill. 
Thoughts came as pure as hght — 

Pure as even you require: 
But (^I each word I write 

Love turns to Gre. 

Yet let me keep the book: 

Oft shall my heart renew, 
' When on its leaves I look, 

Dear thoughts of you. 
Like you, 'tis fair and bright; 

Like you, too bright and fair 
To let wild passion write 

One wrong wish there. 

Haply, when from those eyes 

Far, fat away J roam. 
Should calmer thoughts arise 

Tortards you and homef 
Fancy may trace some line 

Worthy those eyes to ixaet, 
Thoughts that not bum, but. shine. 

Pure, calm, md sweet. 

And as o'er ocean far 

Seamen their records keep, 
Led by some hidden star 

p:hy Google 

6l4 Poems of Love 

Through the cold deep; 
So may the words I write 

Tell through what storms I stray, 
Ytnt still the unseen light 

Guiding my way. 

Thomas Moore {\^^< 


Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 

Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
Were to change hy to-monow, and fleet in my arms. 

Like fairy-gifts fading away, 
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, 

Let thy loveliness fade as it wiU, 
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart 

Would entwine itself verdantly still. 

It is not 
And t 
That thi n, 

No, the 

But a 
As the s 

The Si ! 

Thotnas Moore (1779-1S51] 


If you become a nun, dear, 

A friar I will be; 
In any cell you run, dear, 

Pray look behind for me. 
The roses all turn pale, too; 
The doves all take the veil, too; 

The blind will see the ^ow^ 
What! you become a nun, my dear, - 

I'll £K>t believe it, no! 


To Ms 

If yvu bscome a nan, dear, 

The bishop Lcrv« wiU be: 
Tte Cupids every one, dear, 

Will chant, "We tnwt.ia tbeel" 
Tbe incense yriU go sl^iiDg. 
The candles fail a-dying, 

The waUr tum to wine: 
What! you go take the vows, my dear? 

You may— but they'll be mine, 

Ltigk Hunt [1784-1850] 


Onz-v of thee and me the night wind sings. 
Only of us the sailors speak at sea, 

The earth is filled with wondered whisperings 
Only ol thee and me. 

Only of thee and me the breakers chuit, 
Only o( us the stir in bush and tree; 

The rain and sunshine tell the eager plant 
Only of thee and me. 

Only of thee and me, till all shall fade; 

Only of us the whole world's thoughts can be 
For we are Love, and God Himself is made 

Only of thee and me. 

Louis UrUermeyer (1885 


One word is too often profaned 

For me to profane it. 
One feeling too falsely disd^ned 

For thee to disdain it. 
One hope is too like despair 

For prudence to smother, 
And Pity from thee more dear 

Than that from another. 


626 Poem3 of Love 

I can give not what men caU Iwe; 
: But wilt thou accept not 

The worship the heart Hits above 

And the Heavens reject not: 
The desire of the moth for the star, 

Of the ni^t for the morrow. 
The devotion to something afar 
From the sphere of our BOnowP 

Ptrty Bysik* SluUty [1791-1S11I 

My funt spirit was ^tting in the light 
Of thy looks, my love; 
It panted for thee like the hind at noon 
For the brooks, my love. 
Thy baib, whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's fli^t, 
Bore thee far from me; 
My heart, for my weak feet were weary soon, 
Did companion thee. 

Abl fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed. 
Or the death they bear, 
The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove 
With the wings of care; 
In the battle, in the darluiess, in the need, 
' Shall mine cling to thee, 

Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love, 
It may bring to thee. 

Percy Bysshe Sheltty [1795-1831! 

My ornaments are arms, 
My pftstime is in wai. 
My bed is coid ujton the wold. 
My lamp you st&r. 

My joumeyings are long, 
My slumbers short and broken; 

From hill to hill I wander still, 
Kissing thy token. 


The Secret Love 627 

I iMe fmm l&nd to land, 

I sail from se& to sea; 
Some day more kind I fate m«y find, 

Some night, kiss thee. 

John Gibsim Lockharl [1794-18541 

ove's in the mart! 

Love's in my hearti 
Dana Burndl [iS8S- 


YO0 and I have found the secret way. 
None can bar our love or say us nay: 
All the world may stare and never know 
You and I are twined together so. 

Vou and I for all hb vaunted width 
Know the giant Space is but a myth; 
Over miles and mileB of pure deceit 
You and I have found our lips can meet. 

You and I have laughed the leagues apart 
In the soft delight of heart to heart. 
If there's a gulf to meet or limit set, 
You and I have never found it yet. 

You and I have trod the backward way 
To the happy heart of yesterday, 
To the love we felt in ages past. 
You and I have found it still to last. 

You and T have found tbe joy had birth 
In the angel childhood of the earth. 
Hid within the heart of man and maid. 
You and I of Time are not afraid. 


^i8 Poems of Love 

You and I can mock his faUed mtg. 
For a kiss is an immortal thing. 
And the throb wlterein Ihoae old lips met 
Is a living music in us yet, 

A. E. {Ctorgt Wiliiam Ruistll) {i8«7- 


Sweet in her green dell the flower of beauty slumbers. 
Lulled by the faint breezes sighing through her hatr; 

Sleeps she, and hears not the melancholy numbers 
Breathed to my sad lute amid the lonely air? 

Down from the high diffs the rivulet is teeming 

To wind round the willow-banks that lure him from 

Oh that, in tears from my rocky prison streaming, 
I too could glide to the bower of my love! 

Ah, where the woodbines with sleepy arms have wound 

Opes she her eyelids at the dream of my lay, 
Lbtening like the dove, while the fountains echo round her, 
To her lost mate's call in the forest far away? 

Come, then, my bird! for the peace thou ever bearest, 
Still Heaven's messenger of comfort be to me; 

Come! this fond bosom, my failhfulest, my fairest, 

Bleeds with its death- wound ,^but deeper yet for thee. 
Gairgt Darky [i;ijs-i846| 


1 AM jealous: I am true: 
Sick at heart (or love of you, 

O my share of the worWf 
I am cold, O, cold as stone ' 
To all men save you alone. 

Seven times slower creeps the day 
When your face is (ar away, 
O my share of the world! 

p:hy Google 

My Share of the World 62^ 

Seven times duker tails the night. 
When you gladdoi not my eight. 

Measureless my joy and pride 
Would you choose me for your bride, 

my share of the worid! 
For your face is my delight, 

Morn and even, noon and qight. 

To the dance and to the wake 
Still I go but for your sake, 
■ my share of the world! 
Just to see your face awhile, 
Meet your eyes and win your smile. 

And the gay vord on my lip 
Never lets my secret slip 

To my share Af the work) I 
Light my feet trip over the green — 
But my heart cries in the kccnl 

My poor mother sighs anew 
When my looks go after you, 

my share of the world I 
And my father's brow grows black 
When you smile and turn your back. 

r would part with wealth and ease, 
I would go beyond the seas, 

For my share of the world ! 
I would leave my beartii and home 
If he only whispered " Cornel " 

Houseless under sun and dew, 
I would beg my bread with you, 

O my sliare of the world! 
Houseless in the snow and storm. 
Your heart's love would keep me warm. 

I would pfay and I would crave 
To be with you in the grave, 
my share of the worid! 


630 Poems of Love 

I flouM go through fire and flood, 

I would give up all but God ' 

FoT my share of the world! 


A LAKE and a fairy boat 

To sail in the moonlight dear, — 
And merrily we would float 

From the dragons that watch us b«iel 

Thy gown should be snow-white silk. 

And strings of orieiU pearls, 
Like gossamers dim>ed in nulk; 

Should twine with thy raven cutis. 

Red rubies should deck thy hands. 

And diamonds be thy dower — 
But fairies have broke their wands, 

And wishing has lost its power! 

ThonwNoed I1709-184SI 


Though, when other maids stand by, 
I may deign thee no r^ly, 
Turn not then aWay, and sigh, — 

Smile, and never heed me! 
If our love, indeed, be such 
As must thrill at every touch, 
Why should others leam as much?^— 

Smile, and never heed me! , , 

Even if, with maiden pride, 
I should bid the? quit my ^de. 
Take this lesson for thy guide, — 
Smile, and never heed mcl 

p:hy Google 

Maden Eyes 6jr 

But when stars and twQi^t meet. 

And the dew is falling sweet, 

And thou bear'st my coining feet, — 

Then — thou fhen-^mayst heed me! ' 

Charles STirain [t(oi-i8741 


We see them not— wc cannot hear 

The music of their wing — 
Yet know we that Ihey sojourn near, 

The Angels of the spring! 

They glide along this lovely ground 

Wien the first violet grows; 
Tlieir graceful hands have just uUboimd 

tlie zone of yonder rose. 

I gather it for thy dear breast. 

From stain and shadow fiec: 
That which an Angel's touch hath blest 

Is meet, ray love, for thee! 

Roierl StepkiH Haaker [iSoj-iSyj] 


Yop never bade me hope, 'tis true; 

I asked ]n>u not to swear: 
But I looked in those eyes of blue, 

And read a promise there. 

The vow should bind, with maiden sighs 

That maiden lips have spoken: , 
But that which looks from maiden eyes 

Should last «f all bebrokien. 

GtraidGri^ [1803-1840I 


621^ Poems of LoVe 


I PASS my days among the quiet places 

Made sacred by your Tcct. 
The air is cool in the Tresh woodland spaces, 

The meadows very sweet. 

The sunset fills the wide sky with its spkndor, 

The glad birds greet the night; 
I stop and listen fur a voice strong, tender, 

I wait those dear eyes' light. 

You are the heart of every gleam of glory, 

Your presence fills the air, 
About you gathers all the fair year's sloty; 

1 read you everywhere. 

Alkc Freeman Palmer [1855-1901] 


"Yes," I answered you last night; 

"No," this morning, sir, I say: 
Colors seen by candle-light 

Will not look the same by day. 

When the viols ;Jayed their best, 
Lamps above, and laughs below, 

Love me sounded like a jest, , 

Fit for yes or fit for no. 

Call me false or call me free, 
Vow, whatever light may shine, - 

No man on your lace shall see 
Any grief for change on mine. 

Yet the sin h on us both; 

Time to dance is not to woo; 
Wooing light makes fickle troth, 

Scorn of me recoils on you. 

p:hy Google 

Soag ,6^3 

Le&ni to win & lady's fadtb . 

Nobly, as tbe thing is Ugk, 
Bravely, as for life aad death, 

With a loyal gravity. 

Lead her from the festive boards,. 

Point her to the starry akies, 
Guard her, by your truthful words. 

Pure from courtship's flatteries. 

By your truth she shall be true. 

Ever true, as wives of yore; 
And her yes, once said to you. 

Shall be Yes for evermore. 

KUzjbah Barrett Brmt-ning (iSo6-[8fii| 

Fnnn "The MlUei'i DiHrfner" 

It is the miller's daughter, 

And she is grown so dear, so dear. 
That I would be the jewel 

That trembles in her ear; 
For hid in ringlets day and night, 
I'd touch her neck so warm and white. 

And I would be the girdle 
About her dainty, dainty waist, 

And ber heart would beal against me. 
In sonow and in rest; 

And 1 should know if it beat right, 

I'd dasp it round so dose and tight. 

And I would be the nccklaoe. 

And aU-day long to fall and rise 
Upon her balmy bosom 

With her laughter or her sighs; 


; 6j4 Poema of Love 

And I would lie so Uglit, so li^t, 
I scaice should be unclasped at night. 

Alfred Tatnysen [iSofriSgi) 


AtBV, fairy Lilian, 

Flitting, fairy Lilian, 
When I ask her it she love me, 
Clasps her tiny hand above me. 

Laughing all she can; 
She'll not tell me i( she love me, 

Cruel little Lilian. 

When my passion seeks 

Pleasance in iove-sighs, 
She, looking through and through me. 
Thoroughly to undo me, 

Smiling, never speaks: 
So innocent -arch, so cvmniog-simple, 
From beueath her gathered wimple 

Glancing with black-beaded eyes. 
Till the lightning laughters dfmpie 

The baby-roses in ber dMeks; 

Then away she flies. 

Prithee weep, May Lilian! 

Gaiety without edipse 
Wearielh me, May Lilian: 
Through my very heart it thrlletb', 

When from crimson-threaded lips 
Silver-treMe lauj^ter thriUeth: 
Prithee weep, May Lilian I 

Praying all I can, 
If prayers will not hush thee, 

Airy Lilian, 
Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee, 

Fairy LiUan. 

AlfnA Ttnnyfon [iSoo-iSoi] 

p:hy Google 

RonaMxi to Hia Mistress 635 


The splendor falls on castle walls 

And snowy summits old in story; 
The long light shakes across the lakes, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 

O love, tJie>' die in yon rich sky, 

They faint on iiUl or field or river: 
Our echoes roll from soul to soul. 
And grow for ever and for ever. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set ihe wild echoes flying. 
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 

Al}Ted Tennyson |i8o9-i8i»a] 


- QwivJ MBJ iffn him tieilU. U loir a la ckaititUi 

Aulieatprh tln/nidniiaiilrtJUiBil. 

Dita. cliaMml ms tm eif vms ejiHcmiOaal, 
Smaii «'« ctUirl du lemf! qaej-iuii Wte." 

Some vrinter night, shut snugty in 

Beside the fagot in ihe hail, 
I tlmiL I see you sit and spin, 

Surrounded by your maidens all. 
Okl tales are told, old songs are sung. 

Old days come back to memory; 
Vou Bay, "When 1 was fair and young, 

A poet sang of mel " 


6j6 Poems of Love 

There's not a maiden in your hall, 

Though tired and sleepy ever so, 
But wakes, as you my name recall. 

And longs the hlstoiy to know. 
And, as the piteous tale is said, 

Of lady cold and lover true, 
Each, musing, carries it to bed, 

And sighs and envies you! 

"Our lady's old and feeble now," 

They'll say; "she once was fresh and fair. 
And yet she spurned her lover's vow, ' 

And heartless left him to despair: 
The lover h'es in sQent earth, 

No kindly mate the lady cheers; 
She sits beside a lonely hearth. 

With threescore and ten years!" 

Ah! dreary thoughts and dreams are thos^. 

But wherefore yield me to despair. 
While yet the poet 's bosom glows, 

While yet the dame is peerless fairl 
Sweet lady mine! while yet 'tis time 

Requite my passion and my truth, 
And gather in their blushing prime 

The roses of your youth! 

William Uoktpeace Thackeray Usii-iJ 


When you are old and gray and full of sleep. 
And nodding by the fire, take down this book, 
And slowly read and dream of the soft look 
Your eyes had once, and of their diadows deep; 

How many loved your moments of glad grace. 
And loved your beauty with love falBc or true; 
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, 
And loved the sorrows of your changing face. 

p:hy Google 

Love in a Life 637 

And bending dtrnn beside the ^^omag bars 
MurmuF, a little ssdly, how loVe fled 
And paced upon the mountains overhead 
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. 

WiUiam BuUer Ytals [1865- 

You'll love me yell— and I can tany 

Your love's protracted growing: 
June reared that bnnch of flowers you carry, 

Fkwb seeda of April 'a towing. 

I plant a hc^fuU now: some seed 

At least is sure to strike, 
And yield — what yonll not pluck indeed. 

Not love, but, may be, like. 

You'll look at least on love's remains, 

A grave's one violet: 
Your look?— that pays a thousand pains. 

What's death? Yo«H love me yetl 

Room after room, . , 

1 bunt th£ house through 
We inhabit together. 

Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shall find her — 
Neirt time, herself!— not the trouble behind her 
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfufne! 
As she brurfied it, the comicc^wreath blossomed anew: 
Yon lookin^cbsagledmedat thewave><^hc>rfe^hw>- 1 

Yet the day vraus, .A 

And. door GiKcfeeds door 1 1 .1 

I try tHefnafifort«ne-r- . :.-..; .:'._ I 

Range the li^beuseiramjthemitgrto.thfilceMeiVi ■■■:l 

p:hy Google 

638 Poems of Lovei 

Still the same chance! sbc goes out as I enter. 
Spend my whole day m the qucat,-— wh« otiea? 
But 'tb twilight, you see, — with such suites to explore. 
Such closets to sesTch, such aloov«s to impOTtune! 

Roberl Browning [i6i2-i88g1 


Escape me? 
Never — 
While I am I, and you are you. 
So long as the world cootoina us both,, 
Me the loving and you the loth, 
While the one eludes, must the ot^er puisue. ; 
My life b a fault at last, I fear: 
It soems Kki much like a fate, iodeedl 
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed. 
But what if I fail of my purpose here? 
It b but to keep the nerves at strain,- 

To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, 
And, bi^ed, get up and begin again, — . , 
So the chase takes up doe's life, thaf s aJt. 
While, look but o&ce ^m your farthest bound 

At me so deep in the dust and dark. 
No sooner the old hope drops to ground 
Than a new one, straight to the sdf-same maik, 
I shape me — 

Ever ' -r . , 1 


Rtbtrl Brmntiitg [tSib^rMtl. 

, ,. , ^ . THE WELCOME . ' . ' .'' ' 

Coud in the evening, or cotwe in the monling; ' ' 
Come when you're looked for, or come without warning: 
Kisses and welcome you'll And here hefoie you, ' . r' 
And the oftener you come here the more I'U'sdora youl 
Light is my heart since the day we wflre'ff^ted; 
Red iAWfChttk that tit^ told The wad bfii^tadi . 


Urania 639' 

The green of the trees looks far greeneg than eter, 
And the linnets are ^ngiiig;"True lovers don't aeVerl" 

III pull you sweet flowers, to wear if yoii fhoose theni, — 
Or, after you've kissed them, they'll lie on my bosoin^ 
111 fetch from the mountain its breeze to inspire you' 
111 fetch from my fancy a tale that won't tire you. 
Oh! your step's like the rain to the summer-vcited farmer. 
Or saber and shield to a knight without armor; 
111 sing you sweet songs till the stars rise above me, , 
Then, wandering, I'll wish you in silence to love me. 

Well look through the Uees at the dlfl and the eyrie; 
Well tread round the tadi xm the track of the fairy; 
We'll look on the stars, and well list to the river. 
Till you ask of your darling what gift you cab, give her: 
Oh! shell whisper you — "Love, as unchangeably beaming. 
And trust, when in secret, most tunefully streaming; 
Till the starlight of heaven above us shall quiver. 
As our souls flow in one down eternity's river." 

So come in the eviaiiiig,«ur come in the morning; 
Come when you're looked for, or come vitiuiut waimng: 
Kisses and welcome you'll &iid here before you. 
And the oftener you come here llie mote 111 adore y9ul 
Light is my heart since the day we were plighted; 
Red is my cheek that they told me was blighted; 
The green of the trees looks far greener than ever. 
And the linnets are singing, "True lovers' don't sever!" 

Thomas Osborne Davis \iin-i&i^^ ^ 

UKANIA i ■■ 

She smiles and smSes, and will not sigh, 

WhSe "(re tor homeless passion die; > [ I 

Vet she ould love, those eyes deda^ 

Were but men noMet than they ftte; 1 |.,,/. 

Eagerly once hei grdciottsiEeo 1 r ■ .,■." 
Was turned upon the sons of men; " • •,, ■;. 


640 ■■ Poems of Love 

But light dw serious visage grew — 

She looked, and smiled, and saw them through. / 

. Our petty souls, cur strutting wits, 
Our laUired, puny passion-fits — 
Ah, may she scorn them still, till we , , 
Scorn them as bitterly as she! 

Yet show her once, ye heavenly Powers, 

One of some worthier race than oiirs! 

One for whose sake she once might prove 

How deeply she who scorns can love. ' ■ ■ 

His eyes be like theotarry lights; 
His voice like sounds of Muntner nights; 
In all his lovely mien let pleste 
The magic of the universe ! 

And she lo him will reach her hand, 
Aod gazing io his eyes will stand, 
And know her friend, and weep for glee. 
And cry, Long, long I've looked for thecl 

TTien will she weep — with smiles, t(H then ■ ' 
Coldly she mocks the sons of men. 
1111 then her lovdy eyes maintain 
■ Their pure, unwavering, deep disdain, ■' 

MaMaa AmoU {litt^t'M^ 

1 dOosED and saw your eyes in the shadow of your hair, 

As a traveler sees the stream in the shadow of the wood; — 
And I said, " My faint heart Sighs, ah mc! lo linger there, 

To drink deep and to dream in that sweet solitude." 

I looked and saw your heart in the shadow of yoiur eyes. 

As a seeker sees the goiA in the AxAtm of 'the stream; 
And I said, "Ah, tne! wfait art ebonld win- the immortal 
Whose want must nake Ufe cold aoid Heavcti a hoUow 
dicaa?" ■ i ;, 

p:hy Google 

A.Mitch 641 

I looked and sav your love in the dndow of your heart, 
As a diver sees the pearl in the shadow of the sea; 

And I murmured, not above my breatli, but all apart, — 

"Ah! you can love, truegiri, and b your love for me?" 

DatUe Gabriel Rosteiti [iSiS-iSSi] 


Since wc parted ybster eve, 

I do love thee, love, believe, 

Twelve thnes dearer, twelve houra longer, — 

One dream deeper, one night stronECr, 

One son surer.-^thus modi more 

Than I loved thee, love, before. 

Edaard Sabert Btih>et LyUm [1S31-18 


If love were #hat the rose is, 

And I were like the leaf. 
Our lives would grow together 
In sad or singing weather, ■ ■ 
Blown fields or Powerful closes. 

Green pleasure or gray grief; 
If love were what the rt^ is. 

And I were lihe the leaf. 

If I were what the wonda are, 
And love were like the tune. 
With double sound and single 
Delight our lips would mingle. 
With kisses glad as birds are 

That get sweet rain at noon; 

If I were what the words are, 

And love were like the tune. 

If you Y/6K life, my d^ng, 

And I your loVe were death, 
We'd shine and snow together 
Ere -March made sweet the weather 


642 Poems of Love 

With dafiodil aad stading 
And hours of fruitful breath; ■ 

If you were life, my daclingi 
And I your love were destlk. 

If you were thrall- to sorrow, 

And I were page to joy, 
We'd play for lives and seasons 
With loving looks and treasons 
And tears of night and moiroiv 

And laughs of maid and hay; 
If you were thrall to eomw, 

And I were page to joy. - 

: If you were April's kdy. 
And I were lord in May, 
We'd throw with leaves for hours 
And draw for days with flowers. 
Till day like might were. shady. 

And night were bright like day; 
If you were April's lady, 
And I were lord in May. : ^ 

IE you were queen of pleasure . 

And I were king of paiij, . ; , 
We'd hunt down love tog^her,'. 
Pluck out his flying-feather. 
And teach his feet a measvre, ■ 

And find his mouth a rein; 
If you were queen of pleasare. 

And I were king of pain. 

Algernon Chorlct Sviinbiirne Ii8j7^i 


I FOUND in dreams a place of wind and flowers. 
Full of sweet trees and color ofgkd grass. 
In midst whereof there was 

A lady clothed likesununerwith sweet hours, 


A Ballad of Life 643 

Hat beauty, fervent as afieijr maoa 
Made my blood bum and snoaa 

Like a flame rained upon. 
Sorrow had filled hei.shakeoeye^s' Utte,' : 
And her mootb's sad red heavy roseAU^hroui^ 

Seemed, sad with glad tlungs gone. 

She held a Kttle dthem by the strings, 
Shaped heartwise, strung with subtle-colOted hair 
Of some dead lute player 

That in dead yeara had done delicious things. 

The seven strings were named accordingly; 
The fim string charity, 
The second tenderuess. 

The rest wem pleasure, sorrew, sleep, and aio, , -■ 

And loving kindness, that is pity's kin _, 

And is most pitiless. 

There were three men with her, each garmented 
With gold, and shod with gold upon the feet; 
And with plucked ears of wheat. 

The first man's hair was wound ufKin his head: 

His face was red,' ami his mouth curled and sad; 
All his gold garment had 
Pale stains of dust and rust. 

A riven hood was puUed across his eyes; 

The token of him being upon tbis wise 
Made for a sign of Lust. 

TTie next was Shame, with hollow heavy face 
Colored like green wood when flame kindles it. 
He bath such feeble feet 

They may not well endure in any place. 



644 Poems of Love 

My soul said in me; Tliis is marvelous, 
Seeing the air's face is not so delicate 
Nor the sun's grace so great, 
If sin and ^e be kin or amorous. 
And seeing where maidens served hei ob their knoes, 
I bade one crave of these 
To know the cause thereof. 
/ Then Fear said: I am Fity that was dead. 
/ And Shame said: I am Sorrow comforted. 
( And Lust said: I am Love. 

Thereat her hands began a lute-playJng 
And her sweet mouth a song in a stiwige tongue; 
And all the while she sung 
There was no sound but long tears faUowing 
Long tears upon men's faces, waxen white 
With extreme sad delight. 
But those three following men 
Became as men raised Up among the deadi 
Great glad mouths open, and fair cheeks made led 
With child's blood oonae again. 

Then I said: Now assuredly I see ' 
My lady is perfect, and transfigureth ' 
All sin and sorrow and death, ' 

Making them fair as her own eyelids be, 
Or lips wherein my whole soul's life abides; 
Or as her sweet white sides 
And bosom carved to kiss. 
Now therefore, if her pity further me. 
Doubtless for her sake all my days shall be 
As righteous as she is. 

Forth, ballad, and take roses in both arms. 
Even till the top rose touch thee in the throat 

Where the least thornprick harms; 
And girdled in thy golden singing-coat. 

Come thou before my lady and say this: 


A Leave-taking , fi^j 

Borgia, thy gold hui's color bums in me, 

Thy mouth makes best my blood in feverish rhymes; 
Therefoie so many as these roses be, 

Kiss me so many times. 
Then it may be, seeing how sweet she is, 
That she will stoop herself none otherwise 

Than a blown vine-braccb doth, 
And kiss thee with soft laughter on thine eyes, 

Ballad, and on thy mouth. 

Algernon Cliarles Swinhirne [iSij-i^og] 


Let us go hence, ray songs; she will not hear. 
Let us go hence together without fear; 
Keep silence now, for singing time is over, 
.\nd over all old things and all things dear. 
She lovea not you nor me as all we love her. 
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear, 
She would not hear. 

Let us rise up and part ; she will not know. 
Let us go seaward as the great winds go, 


foam; what help is there? 


these things are so, 


er as a tear, 


e, though ye strove to show. 


Let us go home and hence; she will not weep. 
We gave love many dreams and days (o ke^, 
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow. 
Saying, "If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap." 
All IS rented now; no grass is left to mow; 
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep. 
She woukl not wec^. 


646 Poems of Love 

Let us go hence and rest; she will not love. 
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof, 
Nor see love's ways how sore they are and steep. 
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough. 
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep; 
And though she saw all heaven in flower above, 
She would not love. 

Let us give up, go down; she will not care. 
Though all the stars made gold of all the ^r, 
And the sea moving saw before it move 
One moon-flower making all the foam-llowers fair; 
Though all those waves went over us, and drove 
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair, 
She would not care. 

Let us go hence, go hence; ^e will not see. 
Sing all once more together; surely *e, 
She too, remembering days and words that were. 
Will turn a little towards us, sighing; but we, 
We are hence, we arc gone, as though we bad not been there. - 
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on rae. 
She would not see. 

Algernon Charles Swinlmme [1837-1909] 


There's nae lark loves the lift, my dear, 
There's nae ship loves the sea, 

There's nae bee loves the heather-bells, 

That loves as I love thee, my love, 
That loves as I love thee. 

The whin shines fair upon the fell. 

The blithe broom on the lea; 
The muirside wind is merry at heart : 

It's a' for love of thee, my love. 

It's a' for love of thee. 

Alitman Chatla Sainburne {1837-1909] 


A Love Symphony 647 

0, yon plant the pain in my heart with your wistful eyes. 

Girl of my choice, Maureen! 
Will you drive me mad for the kisses your shy, sweet mouth 


LJke a walking ghost I am, and no words to woo, 
White rose oi the Weal, Maureen: 

For it's pale you are, and the fear that's on you b over me 


Sure it's one complaint that's on US, asthore, this day. 

Bride oE my dreams, Maureen: 
The smart of the bee that stung us his hcoey must cure, 
they say, 


I'll coax the light to youjr eyes, and the rp&e tp your face, 
Mavoumeea, my own Maureen! 

When I feel the warmth of your breast, and your nest b my 
arm's embrace, 


O where was the King o' the World that day— only me? 

My one true love, Maureen! 
And you the Queen with me there, and your throne in my 
heart, machree, 

John TodkunkT [1839- 


Aloho the garden nays just now 

I heard the flowers ^^eak; 
The white rose told me of your brow, 

The red rose of yoi^ cheek; 


648 , Poems of Lov*. 

The lily of your bended head, 
The bindweed of your hair; 
Each looked its loveliest and said 

You were more fair. 

I went into the wood anon, 

And heard the wild birds sing. 
How sweet you were, they warbled on. 

Piped, trilled, the selfsame thing. 
Thrush, blackbird, linnet, without pause 

The burden did repeat. 
And slill began again because 

You were more sweet. 

And then I went down to the sea, 
. And heard it murmuring loo, 
Part of an ancient mystery. 
All made of me and you: 
How many a thousand years ago 
I loved, and you were sweet — 
Longer I could not stay, and so 
I fled back to your feet. 

Arthur O'Siaiiffuuisy (1844-1 


My love comes down from the mouDtala 
Through the mists of dawn; 
, I look, and the star of the morning 
From the sky is gone. 

My love comes down from the mountain, 

At dawn, dewy sweet; 
Did you step from the star to the mountain, 

O little White feet? 

O whence came your twining treascs ' 

And youi: shfating ey«B, 
But out of the gold of the tnonAig 

And the bhie of the skies? 


My Qvtetn '' 649 

The mistj mountain is burning 

In the sun's red firr, 
And the heart in my breast is tiuraing 

And lost in desire. 

I Mlow you into the valley 

But no word can I say; 
Tb the East or the West I will follow 

Till the dusk of my day. 

Thomat B^ ir86r« 


Oniy a touch, and nothing more; 
Ah! but never so toudied before I 
Touch of lip, was it? T©ucb of band? 
Either is easy to understand. 
Earth may be snuttenwitfa fire or frosl>- 
Never the touch of true love lost. 

Only a wordj was it? Sciuce a wordi 
Musical whisper, softly beard, 1 

Syllabled DOtbing—just a breath- 
Twill outkst liPe and 'twill laugh at deuh. ' 
Love with so Kttlc can do so mudi— ' 
Only a word, sweet! Only a touch! 

Mortimer Collins I1837-1S76] 


When and bow shall I earliest meet heri" 

What are the word^ she hat will say? 
By what name shall I learn to greet her? 

I know not oaw; it will oome soipe day! 
With the selfsame sunlight shuiing,\^n her, 

Shining down on her ringlety' sheen. 
She is atatudit^g somewhere—she I shall honor 

She that I wait for, my queea, fay queen I 

p:hy Google 

650 Poems of Love" 

Whether her hair be golden or raven. 

Whether her eyes be hazei or blue, 
I know not now; but 'twill be engrav«B 

Some day hence as my loveUest hne. 
Many a girl I have loved for a minute, 

Worshipped many a face 1 have seen: 
Ever and aye there was somcthuij in it, 

Something that could not be hers, my queenf 

I will not dream of her tatl and stately, 

She that I love may be fairy light; 
I will not say she must move sedately, — ' 

Whatever she does it will then be right. 
She may be humble or proud, my lady, 

Or that sweet calm which is just between; 
And whenever she comes she vil\ find me rei|4y 

To do her homage, my quees, myqueeol 

But she must be courteous, she must be bdy. 

Pure in her ^Miit, this maiden I love; 
Whether her birth be noble or lowly 

1 care no more than the spirits above,. 
But ni give my heart to my lady's Iteeping, 

And ever her strength on mine shall lean; 
And the stars may S&U, and the saints be weeping 

Ere I cease to love her, my queen, my queen! 


One Kttle minute more, Maud, 

One little whisper more; 
I have a word to speak, Maud, 

I never breathed before. 
What can it be but tooe, Maud; 

And do I rightly guess 
lis p^easant to your eat, Mand? 

darh'ng! tdl me yes ! 

p:hy Google 

"Do I Love Th«?" 6f| 

The burden ol my heart, Maud, 

There's littk need to tell; 
There'fl little peed to say, Maud, 

I've loved you long aud welL 
There's language in a sigh, Maud, 

One's meaning to express, 
And yours— was jt tot Pit, Maud? 

darlingl ttUtntyesl 

My eyes have ttdd my love, Maud, 

And on my bunnng cheek, 
You've read the tender thought, Maud, 

My lips refused to speak. 
I gave you all my heart, Maud, 

Tis needless to confess; 
And did you give me yours, MaudP 

darlingl teil me yes 1 

Tis sad to starve a love, Maud, 

So woohipfnl and true; 
I know a little cot, Maud, 

Quite large enou^ for two; 
And you will be my wife, Maud? 

So may you ever bless 
Through all your sunny life, Maud, 

The day you answered yes I 

Join Godfrey Sam [1816-1887I 


Do I love thee? Ask the bee 
If she loves the flowery lea, 
Where the honeysuckle blows 
And the fragrant clover growB. 
As she answers, Yes or No, 
Darlingl take my answer so. 

Do I love thee? Ask the bird 
When hei matin song is heard, 


652 Poems of Love 

If she loves the sky go fair, 

Fleecy cloud and liquid air. 
As she answns, Yes or Ko, 
Daiiing! take my answer ao. 

Do L love thee? Ask tiie flower 
If she loves the vcniai shower. 
Or the lusses of the sun, 
Or the dew, when day is done. 
As she answers, Yea or No, 
Dariiog I take my utswer so, 

John Ca^nySaM 11616-1867] 


O wosis, be nobler, fi» her sake! 

If she but knew thee what thon art, 
What wrongs are bome, what deeds arc done 
In thee, beneath thy daily sun, 

Know'st thou not that her tender heart 
For pain and very shame woukl break? 
O WorM, be nobler, for her sakel 

Laurtiue Binyon iiS6g~ 


In the dark, in the dew, 
1 am smiling back at you; 
But you cannot see the smile, 
And you're thinking oil the while 
How I turn my face from you, 
In the dark, in the dew. 

In the dark, in the dew, 
All my love goes out to you, 
Flulteis kike a bird in pain. 
Dies aod comes to Ufe again; 
While you whisper, "Sweetest, hark 
Sometme's sighing in the dark. 
In the dark, in the dcwl " 


Nanny 653 

Id tbe dark, in the dew. 

All my heart cries out to you. 

As I cast it at your feet, 

Sweet iiideed, but not too sweet; 

Wondering will you bear it beat, 

Beat for you, and bleed for you. 

In tbe dark, in the dew! 

Mary Navmarck Prescott [1849-18S8) 


Ob, for an hour when the day is breaking, 
Down by tbe sbote where the tide is makiiig. 
Fair as a white doud, thou, love, near nte, , 
None but the waves and thyself to bear me! 
Ob, to my breast how these arms would press tbeel 
Wildly my heart in its joy would bless tbeel 
Oh, I10W tbe soul thou has won would woo thee, 
Girl of tbe snow neck, closer to me! 

Oh, for an hour as the day advances. 

Out where the breese on the broom-hush dances, 

Watching tbe lark, with the sun-ray o'er us, 

Winging tbe notes of his Heaven -taught chorus! 

Ob, to be there, and my love before me, 

Soft as a moonbeam smiling o'er mel 

Thou would'st but love, and I would woo thee. 

Girl of the dark eye, closer to me! 

Oh, for an hour where the sun first found us, 
Oul in the eve with its red sheets round us, 
Brushing the dew from the gale's soft winglets. 
Pearly and sweet, with thy long dark ringlets! 
Oh, to be there on the sward beside thee. 
Telling my tale, though I know you'd chide mej 
Sweet were thy voice, though it should undo me, — 
Girl of the dartt locks, ckHer to me! 

Oh, for an bour by night or by day, love, 1 

Just as the Heavens and thou might say, lovel 


654 Poems of Love 

Far from the stare of the coH-eyed many, 
Bound in the breath of my dovc-souled Naunyl 
Ob, for the pure chains thai have bound me, 
Warm from thy red lips circling round me I 
Oh, in my soul, as the light above me, 
Queen of the pure hearts, do I love thee! 

Francis Dmis [1810-1885] 

I KNOW not why, but even to me 

My songs seem sweet when read to thee. 

Periiaps in this the pleasure lies — 
I read my thou^ts within thine eyes, 

And so dare fancy that my art 
May sink as deeply as thy heart. 

Periups I love to make my words 
Sing round thee like so maiiy birds, 

Or, maybe, they are only sweet 
As they seem offerings at thy feet. 

Or haply, Lily, when I speak, 

I think, perchance, they touch thy cheek. 

Or with a yet more precious bliss, 
Die on thy red lips in a kls. 

Each reason here — I cannot tell — 
Or Alt perhaps may solve the ^)ell. 

But if she watch when I am by, 
Lily may deeper sec than I. 

liettry Timred (181^1867) 

I WILL make you broodies and toys for your delight 
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night. 
I will make a palace fit for you and me, 
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea. 


"Or EvertKe Knightly Years Were Gone "'65 J 

I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room, 
Where white flows the river and br^ht blows the broom. 
And you shaS wash your linen and keep your body white 
In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night. 

And this shall be for music when no one else is near 
Tbe fine song for ^ngiog, the rare song to hffti! 
That only I remember, that only you admire. 
Of the broftd road that stretches and the roadside fire. 
Soberl Lo*ii Slnens^t I1S3C1-13Q4} 


Ob ever the knightly yeus were eone 

With tbe old woild to the grave, 
I was a King in Babylon 

And you were a CbristiaB Slave. 

I saw, I took, I cast you by, 

I bent and broke youi pride. 
You loved me well, or I heard them Be, 

But your longiBg was denied. 
Surely I knew that by and by ' " 

You cursed your gods and died. 

And a myriad suns have set and sboue . 

Since then i^wm the grave 
Decietd by the King in Babylon 

To her that had been his Slave. 

The pride I trampled is now my scathe, 

For it tramples me again. 
Tbe old resentment lasts Hke death. 

For you love, yet you refrain. 
I break my heart on yoor hard unfaith. 

And I break my heart in vain. 1 

Yet not for an hour do I wsb undone 

The deed beyond the grave. 
When I was a King iK Babylon 

And yon were a Virgin Slave. 

WMiam Emesi Henley [1849-1003] 


656 Poems cf Love 

Poets are singing the whole world ov^ 

0( May in melody, joys fot June; 
Dusting their feet in the careless clover, 

And filling their hearts with the blackbird's tune. 
The "brown bright nightingale" strikes with pity 

The sensitive heart of a count or clown; 
But where is the song for our leafy dty. 

And where the rhymes for our lovely town? 
'O tor the Thames, and its rippling reaches, 

Where almond rushes, and breezes spont 
Take meawalk under Bumham Beeches; 

Give me a diimer at Hampton Court!" 
Poets, be still, though your hearts I harden; 

We've flowers by day and have scents at dark, 
The limes are in leaf in the cockney garden, 

And lilacs blossnm in Regent's Park. 
"Come for a blow," savs a reckless fellow, . 

Burned red and brown by passionate sui); 
" Come to the downs, where the gorse is yellow ; 

The season of kisses has just begun! 
Come to the fields where bluebells shiver. 

Hear cuckoo's carol, or plaint of dove; 
Come for a row on the silent river; 

Come to the meadows and learn to love! " 
Yes, I will come when this wealth is over 

Of sttftened c<^r and perfect tone — 
The lilac's better than fields of clover; 

I'll come when blosGonung May has flown. 
When diist and dirt of a trampled dty 

Have dragged the yeUow laburnum down, 
I'll take my hoMday— more'a the pity — 

And turn my back upon London town. 

Margaret! am I sowrraig to love it. 

This misty town that your face shines through? 
A crown of blossom is waved above it; 

Bui heart and life of the whirl— '/w you I 


A "VVhite Rose ^j;? 

Margaret! pearl! I have sought and found you; 

And, though the paths of the wind are free, 
I'L follow the ways of the world around you, 

And build my nest on the nearest tree! 

Clement Scot! Ii 841 -1504' 


There's a road to heaven, a road to hell, 
A road for the sick and one for the wdl; 
There's a road for the false and a road for the true 
But the road for me is the road to you. 

There's a road throng prairie and forest and ^n, 
A road to each place in human ken; 
There's a road over earth and a road over sea, • 
But the road to you is the road for me. 

Tlierc's a road for animal, bird, and beast, 
A road for the greatest, a road for the least; 
There's a road that is old and a road that is new, 
But the road /or me is the road to you. 

There's a road for the heart and a road for the soul, 
There's a road for a part and a road for the whole; 
There's a road for love, — which few ever see, — 
"Tis the road lo you and the road for me. 

Oliver Opdyke [1E7S- 


The red rose whispers of passion. 
And the white rose breathes of love; 

Oh, the red rose is a falcon, 
And the white rose is a dove. 

But I send you a cream while rosebud 

With a flush on its petal tips; 
¥ot the love that is purest and sweetest 

Has a kiss of desire on the lips. 

Jokti Boyti O'Reilly [lAM-iSgo 


658 Poems of Love 


SouE day, some day of days, threading the street 

With idle, heedless pace, 

Unlooking for such gruce 

I shall behold your face! 
Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet.' 

Perchance the sun may shine from skies of May, 

Or winter's icy chill 

Touch whitely vale and hill. 

What matter? I shall thrill 
Thiongh ev»y vein with aumiiMa' on that day. 

Once more life's perfect youth will alt aime back. 

And for a moment there 

I shall stand fresh and fair, 

And drop the garment care; 
Once more my perfect youth will nothing tacfc. 

I shut my eyes now, thinking how 'twill bt^— 

How face to face each soul 

Will slip its long control. 

Forget the dismal dole 
Of dreary Fate's dark, separating sea; 

And glance to glance, and hand to hand in greeting, 

The past with all its fears. 

Its silences and teara, 

Its lonely, yearning years, 
Shall vanish in the moment of that meeting. 

Nora Perry [1831-1806) 


"When I was just as far as I could walk 

From here to-day. 

There was an hour 

All still 

When leaning with my bead against a flower 

p:hy Google* 

Where Love Is 659 

I heard you talk. ' 

Don't say I didn't, for I heard you say — 

You spoke from that flower on the window sill — 

Do you remember what it was you said?" 

"First tell me what it was you thought you heard." 

"Having found the flower and driven a bee away, 

I leaned my head, 

And holding by the stalk, 

I listened and 1 thought I caught the word — 

Whal was it? Did you call me by my name? 

Or did you say — 

Someone said 'Come' — I heard it as I bowed." 

"I may have thought as much, but not aloud." 

"Well, so 1 came.'* 


Bv the rofy diSs of Devon, on a green hill's crest, 

I would build me a house as a swallow builds its nest; 

I would curtain it with roses, and the wind should breathe 

to me 
The sweetness of the roses and the saltness of the sea. 

Where the Tuscan olives whiten in the hot blue day, 
I would hide me from the heat in a little hut of gray. 
While the singing of the husbandmen should scale my lat- 
tice green 
From the golden rows of barley that the poppies blaze be- 

Narrow is the street, Dear, and dingy are the walls 
Wherein you wait my coming as the twilight falb. 
All day with dreams I gild the grime till at your step I start — 
Ah Love, my country in your arms— my home upon your 
heart I 

Amdia JostfUnt Burr [187S- 

p:hy Google 

66o Poems of Love 


Such special sweetness was about 

That day God sent you here, 
I knew the lavender was out. 

And it was mid of year. 

Their common way the great winds blew. 

The ships sailed out to sea; 
Yet eie that day was spent I know 

Mine own had c»;ne to me. 

As after song some snatch of time 

Lurks still in grass or bough, 
So, somewhat of the end o' June 

Lurks in each weather now. 

The young year sets the buds astir. 

The old year strips the trees; 
But ever in my lavender 

I hear the brawling bees. 

Lf:xUe Woodaortk Rtese Ii8s6 


When this, our rose, is faded, 

And these, our days, arc done, 
In lands profoundly shaded 

From tempest and from sun: 
Ah. once more come together, 

Shall we forgive the past. 
And safe from worldly weather 

Possess our souls at last? 

Or in our place of shadon-s 
Shall still we stretch an hand 

To green, remembered meadows. 
Qf that old pleasant land? 

p:hy Google 

In a Rose Garden 66r 

And vainly there foregathered, 

S9iaH we regret the sun? 
The rose irf love, ungathered? 

The bay, we have not won? 

Ah, cbQd! the world's dark marges 

May lead to Nevermore, 
The stately funeral barges 

Sail for an unknown shore, 
And love we vow to-morrow, 

And pride we serve to-day: 
Wfaat-if they both should borrow 

Sad hues of yesterday? 

Olir pride! Ah, should we nrass it. 

Or wIB it serve at last? 
Our anger, if we kiss it, 

Is like a sorrow past. 
While roses deck the garden, 

While yet the sun is high, 
Do5 sorry pride for {^rdon, 

Or ever love go by. 

Ernest Dvwson [1867-1900J 


J years from now, dear heart, 

We shall not care at all. 
It win not matter then a whit. 

The honey or the gall. 
The summer days that we have known 
Wai all forgotten be and flown; 
The garden will be overgrown 

Where now the roses fall. 

A hundred years from now, dear heart. 

We shall not mind the pain ; 
The throbbing crimson tide of Hfe 

Will not have left a stafai. 


66i Poems of Love 

The song we sing together, dear. 
The dream we dream together here, 
Will mean no more thou meanG a tear 
Amid a summer rain. 

A hundred years from now, dear heart, 

The grief will all be o'er; 
The sea of care will surge in vain 

Upon a careless shore. 
These glasses we turn down to-day 
Here at the parting of the way — 
We shall be wineless then as they. 

And shall not mind it more. 

A hundred years from now, dear heut. 
We'll neither know nor care 

What came of all life's bitterness, ' 
Or followed love's desjiair. 

Then fill the glasses up agam. 

And kiss me through the rose-leaf rain; 

We'll build one castle more in Spain, 
And dream one more dream there. 

John BtuneU |i86s- 


If there be graveyards in the heart 

From which no roses spring, 
A place of wreckE and old gray tombs 

From which no birdi take wing. 
Where linger buriod hcfies and dreama 

Like ghosts among the graves. 
Why, buried hopes are dismal things, 

And lonely ghosts are knaves 1 

If there come dreary winter days, 

When summer loses fall 
And lie, foigot, in withered drifts 

Along the garden wall; 


To-day JS63 

If all tbe wreaths a lover weaves 
Turn thorns upgn the brow, — 

Thm out upon the silly fool 
Who makes not merry dow! 

For if we otDnot keep the past. 

Why care for what'a to come? 
The instant's prick is all that stings, 

And thea the [dace is numb. 
If Life's a lie, and Love's a cheat, 

As I have heard men say, , 

Then here's a health to fond deceit — 

God bless you, dear, to-day! 

John BemitU [1865- 

I BRING you all my olden days, 
My childhood's mornins slow: 

I bring you all my lonely days. 

My heart that hungered so; 
I love you through the wistful h^ze 

Of autumns burning low; 
And on pale seas, l)fQeath wan sky, , 

By weary tides beset, 
I voyage still, till you and I 

Over the world are met, 
I bring you all my hE4>py days,— 

Armfuls a\ flowers — ob, 
I love you ae the sunlight stays 

On mountains heaped with snow: 
And where the desmt dream-buds lie. 

With tears and dew-drops wet, 
I toss t«HJay; for you and I 

Ovec the world are metl - 

Benjamin R. C. Low [1880- 


fifi^ Poems of Love 


Across the hills of Arcady 
Into the Land of Song — 

Ah, dear, if you will go with me 
The way will not be long! 

It will not lead through solitudes 
Of wind-blown woods or sea; 

Dear, no! the city's weariest moods 
May scarce veil Atcady. 

Tis in no unfamiliar land 
Lit by some distant star. 

No! Arcady is where you stand, ^ 
And Song is where you are! 


I WISH, because the sweetness of your passing 
Makes all the earth a garden where you tread. 

That I might be the meanest of your roses, 
To pave your path with petals passion-red! 

I wish, because the softness of your breathing 
Stiry the white jasmine at your window fnune. 

That I might be the fragrance of a flower, 
To stir the n^t breeze wth your dcanst namel 

I wish, because the glory of your dreaming 
Strews all the field of heaven with Lhfobbing stai^, 

That I might storm the portals of your slumber, 
And soar with you beyiHid ni^t's golden barsi 

p:hy Google 

"'Because of You" .-,665 

I wish to be the day you die, Beloved, 
Thou^ at its dose my foohsh heart must break I 

But most of all, I wish, my dearest darling, 
To be the Blessed Morning when you wakel 
Elhel M. Htwitt |i8 - 


Sweet have I known the blossoms of the morning 

Tenderly tinted to, their hearts of dew: 
But now my flowers have found a fuller fragrance, 
Because of you. 

LoDg have I worshiped in my soul's enshrining 

High visions of the noble and the true — 
Now all my aims and all my prayers are purer. 
Because of you. 

Wise have I seen the uses of life's labor; 

To all its puzzles found some answerii^ due. 
But now Diy life has learned a nobler meaning. 
Because of you. 

In the past days I chafed at pain and waiting. 

Grasping at gladness as the children do; 
Now it is sweet to w&it and joy to suffer. 
Because of you. 

In the long years of silences that part us 

Dimmed by my tears and darkened to my view, 
Close shall I hold my memories and my madness. 
Because of you. 

Whether our lips shall touch or hands ^tll hunger, 

Whether our love be fed or joys be few, 
Life will be sweeter and more wortli the living. 
Because of you. 

SBpkm Ainutt Ut»^ [i366- 


Foems of Lore 


I GIVE thee treasures hour by hour, 
That old-time princes asked in vain, 

And pined for in their useless power. 
Or died of passion's eager pain. 

I give thee love as God gives li^t, 
Aside from merit, or from prayer. 

Rejoicing in its own delight, 
And freer than the lavish air. ' 

I give thee prayers, like jewels stnmg . 

On golden threads of hope and fear; 
And tenderer thoughts than cvei hung 

In a sad angel's pitying tear. 

As earth pwurs freely to the sea 

Her thousand streams of wealth untold, 
So flows my sileot lite to thee, 

Glad that its very sands are gold- 

What care I for thy carelessness? 

I give from depths that overflow, 
Regardless that their power to bless 

Thy spirit cannot sound or know. 

Far lingering on a distant dawn, 

My triumph shines, more sweet than late; 
When, from these mortal mists withdrawn. 

Thy heart shall know me— I can wait. ' 

Rott Terry Cookt {laiy-i. 


I tBAT trembte at your feet 

Am a rose;' 
Nothing dewier or moie sweet 
Buds or blows; 
He thst plucked m», he tbat threw me 
Breathed in fire his whole soul through me. 

hy Google 

The Serfs Secret 667 

How ttie cold air is Infused 

With the scent! 
See, this satin leaf is bruised — 
Bruised and bent, 
Lift me. Eft the wounded blossom, 
Soothe it at youi roaiei bosoml 

Frown not with averted eyes! 

Joy's a flower 
That is bom a god, and dies 
In an hour. 
Take me, for the Summer closes. 
And your life is but a rose's. 

£rfmffnd Otsse [iSir- 


Oh, what know they of harbors 

Who toss not on the seal 
They tell of fairer havens , 

But none so fair there be 

As Plymouth town outstretching 

Her quiet arms to me; 
Her breast's broad welcome spreading 
From Mewstone to Penlee. 

Ah, with this home-thougfat, darting, 
Ccone crowding thoughts of thee. 

Oh, what know they of harbors 
Who toss not on the sea! 

Urs. Ental Radjori (1858- 


I KNOW a secret, such a one 
TTle hawthorn blossoms spider-apUn, 
The dew-damp daisies in the gifess 
I^augh up to greet me aa I pass 
To meetthe upland' sun.- 


Poems of LoTC 

It is that I would rather be 
The little page, on bended knee, 
Who stoops to gather up her train 
Beneath the porch-lamp's ruby rain 
Than hold a ledm in fee. 

It is that in her scornful eye. 
Too hid for courtly sneer to spy, 
I saw, one day, a look which said 
That I, and only I, might shed 
Love-light across her sky. 

I know a secret, such a one 

The hawthorn bbssoms spider-q>un, 

The dew-damp daisies in the grass 

Laugh up to greet me as I pass 
To meet the upland sun. 

William Vaughn Moody [1869-1910) 

O, iNEXPRESStBLE as sweet, 

Love takes my v-oice away; 
I cannot tell thee when we meet 

What most I long to say. 
But hadst thou hearing in thy heart 

To know what beats in mine. 
Then shouldst thou walk, where'er thou art. 

In melodies divine. 
So warbling birds lift higher notes 

Than to our ears belong; 
The tnuac fills their throbbing throats, 

But silence steals the song. 

George Edward Woodberry [1835- 

OvsKthe phuna where Feisian hosts 

Laid down their lives for glory 
Flutter the cyclamens, like ^osU 

That theii stocy. 


The West-Country Lover 669- 

Oh, fair! Ob, white! Oh, pure as snow! 
On countkee graves how sweet they grow ! 

Or crimson, like the cruel wounds 
From which the lite-blood, flowing, 

Poured out where now on grassy mounds 
The low, soft winds are blowing: 

(Hi, fair! Oh, redl Like blood of slain; 

Not even time can cleanse that slain. 

Bui when my dear these blossoms holds, 

All loveliness her dower, 
All woe and joy the past enfolds 

In her find fullest flower. 
Oh, fair! Oh, pure! Oh, white and red! 
If she but live, what are the dead! 

Ario Bate] Ii8so~ 

Then, lady, at last thou art sick of my sighing? 

So long as I sue, thou wilt still be denying? 

.\h, well! shall I vow then to serve thee forever, 
And swear ito unkindness our kinship can sever? 
Nay, nay, dear my lass! here's an end of endeavor. 

Yet let no sweet ruth for my misery grieve thee. 


The man who has loved knows as well how to leave thee. 


The gorsc is enkindled, there's bloom on the heather, 

.^nd love is my joy, and so too is fair weather; 

I still ride abroad, though wc ride not together. 


My horse is my mate; let the wind be my imfiter. ' 


Though Care may pursue, yet my bound follows faeter. 



670 Poems of Love 

The red dear's a-trecoble in coverts unbrokcD. 

He bears the hoof -thunder; be sceote tbt death-taken. 

Shall I tnope at home, under vows never spoken? 


The brown earth's my book, and I ride foith to. read it. 


The stream runneth fast, but my will diaU out4>ced it. 


I love thee, dear lass, but 1 hate the hag Sorrow. 

As sua follows rain, and to-night has its morrow. 

So 111 taste of Joy, though I steal, beg, or borrow! 


Alice Brown 1 1837- 

Be ye in love with April-tide? 
1' faifh, in love am II 
For now 'tis sun, and now 'tis shower, 
And now 'tis frost and now 'tis flower, 
And now 'lis Laura laughing-eyed, 
And now 'tis Laura shyl 

Ye doubtful days, O slower glide! 

Still smile and frown, skyl 
Some beauty nnforesean I trace 
In every change of Laiura's face; — 
Be ye in love with April-tide? 
I' faith, in love am I! 

Clinton Scollard [lifxr- 

Heart of my heart, the world is young: 

Love lies bidden in every rose! 
Every song that the skylark sung 

Once, we thought, must come to a close: 
Now w« know the spirit of soi^ 
Song that is merged in the chant of the whole, 
" ' Hand in hand as we wander akag. 

What should we doubt of the years that roll? 


The Queen 671 ' 

Heart of my heart, we Cftn not'die! 

Love trimnphaat in flower and tree, * 

Every life thdt l&ughK at the sky 

Tells us nothing caa cease to be; 
One, we are one with a. sMig to-day. 

One with the clover that sceats the void, 
One with the Unknown, tar away, 

One with the stars, when earth grows old. 

Heart of my heart, we are one y/ith the wind, 

One with the clouds that are whirled o'er tlic lea, 
One in many, O bn^en and blind, 

One as the waves are at odc with the seat 
Ayl when lUe Eectns acatCered apart, 

Darkens, ends as a tale that is told, 
One, we are one, O heart of my heart. 

One, still one, while the world grows old. 

AlfridNoyes [j88tx-l 


He loves not well ^ose love is btddl 
I would not have thee come too nigh: 

The sun's gold would n6t seem pure- gtdd ' 
Unless the san were in the sky: 

To take him tbeOce and chain him near 

Would make his glory disappear. 

He keeps his state, — keep thou in thine. 
And shine upon me trom afar! 1 

So shall I bask in light divine, 
That bWs from love's own guiding star; 

So shall thy eminence be high, 

And so my paewm shall not die; 


671 Poems of Love 

Tby eyes shall be the heav«ily lights, 
Thy voice the gentie sununei bcerae, — 

What time it sways, on moonlit nights, 
The murmuring tops o( lesfy trees; 

And I shall touch thy beauteous form 

In June's red roses, rich and vann. 

- But thou thyselC shaQ come not down 
From that pure region far above; 
But keep thy throne and wear thy crown, 

l^een of my heart and queen of love! 
A monarch in thy realm complete, 
And I a monarch— at thy feet! ' 

WitUam Winttr Ii8j6-<qifl 


I EMVX every flower that blows 
Beside the pathway where she goes. 

And every bird that sings to her, 
And every breeze that brings to her 
The fragrance of the rose. 

I envy every poet's thyme 

That moves her heart at evenlime, 

' Aj)d every tree that wears for her 
Its brightest Uoom, and bears for bee 
The fruitage of its prime. 

I envy every Sonthem night 

That paves her path with moonbeams white; 
And silvert all the leaves for her, 
And in their ^adow weaves lor her 
A dream of dear delist. 

I envy none whose love requires 
Of her a gift, a task that tires: 
I only long to live to her, 
I only ask to give to her 

All thai her heart denres. 

Hmrj Van D^kt (i8$4- 


' My Heart Shall Be Thy'tiarden" 673- 

When Eunsd; flows isto golden glow% ■ << ,; , :r •{ 

And the breath of the night a new, ' 1 < . 1 1 
Love, find afar eye's eager stai — . . ,; .. ; 

That is my thought of you. . . ' 1 

O iear-wet ^E that scans liw Eky ' '■■•'.'< 

Your lonely lattice through: > i' 

Chodseany oneyfrom sun tosinvr- - .[.V 

That ismy thou^.of yoy. ■■ ^^ . 1 «, ; 

And when you wake at the morning's break 

To rival rose and dew, 
The star that stays till the leaping rays — 

That is my thought of you. 

Ay, though by day tley leemaway 

Beyond or dowt or bhic, ■ ■ 
From dawn to night unquenched (heir light — 

As are my thoughts of you. 

Robert Underwood Johnson [i8s3- 

My heart shall be thy ^vden. Come, my own, 

Into thy garden; thine be happy hoars 

Among my fairest thoughts; my tallest flowers, 
From root to cn)ming> petal, tbine alone. 
Thine is the place from where the seeds are sown 

Up to the sky inc)cecd, )»>tti^llitsi,sijDwers. 

But ah, the birds, the birds! Who shall build bowers 
To keep these thine? friend, t^ie birds have ftown. 

For as these come add go, and quit our pint , :- 

To follow the sweet, season, or, new-conlorj) 

Sing one song only from our alder- trees, 

My heart has thoughts;' A-hicb, though tiiifle eyefe hold min 

Flit to the silen; WoHd ind 'other sum'fnersf 

With wings that dtp Be'yoiia the silver SeJi^ 

p:hy Google 

674 Poems of Love 


HoicE, home from the horisoo far and dear. 

Hither the soft wings sweep; 
Flocks of the memories of the day draw near 

The dovecote doors of sleep. 

CMi which are they thit come through sweetest li^t 

Of all these homing birds? 
Which with the straightest and the swiftest flight!' 

Your words to me, your wordsl 

Alict MeyntU [i8sj- 


SoHG is so old, 

Love is so new — 
Let me be still 

And Imecl lo yon. 

Let me be still 
And breathe no word. 

Save what my wann blood 
Sings unheard. 

Let my warm blood 

Sing low of yon — 
Song is so fair, 

Love is so new! 

Htrmatm Boftdam (iSSa- 


Au. last tiight I had quiet 
In a fragrant dream and warm; 

She had become ray SaU>atb, 
And round my neck, her arm. 

. ., , I knew the warmtli in my dreaming; 
The fragrance, I suppose, 
Was her hair about me, 
. Or else she wore a rose. 


The Last Word 67 j 

HfT hitir, I think; for tktsi 

WoodruSe 'twas, when Spnng 
Loitering down wet woodwaya 

Treads it aauntering. 

No light, nor any speaking; 

Fragrant only and warm. 
Enough to ktiow my lodging, 

The white Sabbath of her arm. 

lanelUs Abertroiabie [igjl- 


When I have folded up this tent 

And laid the soiled thing by. 
I shall go forth 'neath different stare. 

Under an unknown sky. 

And yet whatever house I fmd 

Beneath the grass or snow 
Will ne'er be tenant less of love 

Or lack the face I know. 

O lips— iriid rosea wet with rain! 

Blown hair of drifted brown! 
passionate eycG I O panting heart — 

When in that colder town 


676 Poems of Lora 

Yea, thou^ my spirit nevw'wakfe 
To hear the voice 1 knew, ' 

Even an endless sleep would be ' 
Stirred by the dreams of Vou ! 

Frederic Laurence Knowlcs [1860-1505! 


Heart of my heart, my li(e, my lightl 

If you were lost what should I do? 
i dare not let you from my sij^b ■ 

Lest Death should fall in love with you. 

Such countless terrors !ie in wah! ' 
The gods know well how dear you are! 

What if they left mc desolate 
And plucked and set you for thcii star! 

Then hold me dose, the gods arc strong^ 
And perfect joy so rare a flower , 

No man may hope to keep it long — 
And r may lose you axf hoar. ' 

Then' kits me close, my star, my flower! ' 

So shall the future grant me this: 
That there was not a single hour 

We might have kissed, and did not kiss! 



On, my laddie, my laddie,, 
I lo'e your very pUidie, 
I lo'c your very bonnet 
Wi' the silver buckle on it, 
■IM'tyourcoHtelterry,- ■ '■.' 
I lo'e the kcnt ye carry; 
But oh! it's past hiy power to'tell 
How much, hOw muchlib^ymirdell 


The Shaded Pool 677 

OVmydaatiic, my dearie, 
I oould luik an' never weacy <- 

At youi eea sae blue ui' iaugbin', . 
That a heart o' stan^ wad safteti, 
WhUe your moutb sae proud an' cuily 
Gars my heart gang tirlie-wirlie; 

But ohi yootsel, your very ael, 

I lo'e ten thousand times as well! 

Oh! my darlio', my darlin', 

I^'s Sit whaur flits (he starlin', 
Let'sloll upo' the heather 
A' this bonny, bonny weather; , 
Ye shall fauld me in your plaidie, , 
. My luve, my luvc, my laddie; . 
An' close, an' close into your ear 
I'll tell ye how I lo'e ye, dear. 

Amiiie Rives [1M3- 

A lAvaaiHG knot of villagt maids 
Goes gaily tripping to the brook. 
For water-nymphs they mean to be, ■ 
And seek some still, secluded nook. 
Here Laura goes, ray own delight, 
And Colin's love, the madcap Jane, 
And half a score of goildcsscs 
' Trip over daisies in the plain: 
Already now they loose iheir hair 
• _j t ^^^l jf,g tangled gold,' ' 

ng foot to reach ' ,' 

i only suramer-col4; 
stream out behind ,', 

es on the wing. 

he wealth I love, 

he gold I sing. 

A-row upon the bank they pant, > 
And alt unlace the cauntry shoe; 1 
Their fingers tug the garter-^biMs . : 
Totooee the.tioBe of ^varied hue. ' : . 1 

p:hy Google 

678 Poems of Lowe. 

The flashing Icnee at last appears, 

The lower curves of youth and grace. 

Whereat the girls intently xtn 

The mazy thickets of the place. 

But who's to see except the thrush 

Upon the wild crab-apple tree? 

Within his branchy haunt he sits— 

A very Peeping Tom is he! 

Now music bubbles in his throat. 

And now he pipes the scene in song— 

The virgins slipping from their robes, 

The cheated stockings lean and long, 

The swift-descending petticoat, 

The breasts that heave because they ran, 

The rounded arms, the brilliant limbs, 

The pretty necklaces of tan. 

Did ever amorous God in Greece, 

In search of some young mouth to kiss. 

By any river chance upon 

A sylvan scene as bright as this? 

But though each maid is pure and fair, 

For one alone my heart I bring, 

And Laura's is the shape I loVe, 

And Laura's is the snow I sing. 

And on his shining [ace are seen 
Great yellow lilies drifting down 
Beyond the ringing apple-tree, 
Beyond the empty homespun gQws. , 


Good-nighe 679 

Did ever Orpheus with his lute. 
When making melody of old, 
E'er find a. stieaia in Attica 
So lipdy fuU of pink and gold? 

At last they climb the sloping bank 
And shake upon the thirsty soil 
A treasury of diamond-drops 
Not gained by aught of ^my toil 
Agun the ganers clasp the hose. 
Again the velvet knee is hid, 
Again the breathless babble tells 
. What Colin said, what Colin did. 
In grace upon the grass they lie 
And ^read their tresses to the sun. 
And rival, musical as they, 
The blackbird's alto shake and run. 
Did ever Love, on hunting bent. 
Come idly humming through the hay, 
And, to hia sudden joyf ulness, 
fmd f^rer game at close of day? 
Though every maid's a lily-rose. 
And meet to sway a sceptred king, 
Yet Laura's is the face I love. 
And Laura's are the lips I aiag. 

Nornuat Caie (1S63- 


GooD-NiGBT. Good-night. Ah, good the night 
That wraps thee in its silver light. 
Good-night. No night is good for me 
That does not hold a thought of th^. , 

Good-night. Be every night as sweet 
As that which made our love coDq>tete, 
■nn that last night when death shall be 
One brief "Good-night," for thee and me. 

S. War Uilchdl [1819-1914] 

p:hy Google 

^9d Poems of Love 


By seven vineyards on one hill 
We walked. The native wine 

In dusters grew be^de us Iwa, 
For your lips and for mine, 

For as summer leaves are bent and shake 

With singers passing through, 
So moves in me continually 

The wingM breath of you. 

You tasted from a single vine 
And took from that yout 611— ' , 

But I inclined lo every kind'. 
All seven on one hill. 

Wilier Bynn» ii88i- 


I AH the wind that wavers, . 

You are the certain laud; 
I am the shadow that passes 

Over the a^nd. 

I am tKe leaf that quivers, 

You the unshaken tree; 
You are the stars that are steadfast, 

I am the sea. 

Ypu axe the light eternal, 

Like a torch I shall die. ... i 
You are the surge of deep music, 

I— but a ctyl 

Zat A kill! (1886- 


"This Is My Love for You" 68 1 

I tovE my life, but not too well 

To give it to thee like a flower. 
So it may pleasure tbeeto dw^ 

Deep in its perfume but an hour, 
I love my life, but not too well. 

I love my life, but not too well 
To sing it note by note away. 

So to thy soul the song may tell 
The beauty of the desolate day. 

I love my life, but not too well. ^ , 

I love my life, but net too well 
To cast it like a ctoak on thinei 

Against the storms that sound and swell 
Between thy lonely heart and mine. 

I tove my life, but not too well. 

H<»TUt Moiirm: li^Oa^ i 


I HAVE brought the wine ' 
And the folded raiment fine. 
Pilgrim staff and shtJe— 
This is my love for you. 

I will smooth your bed. 
Lay away your coverlid. 
Sing the whole day through. 
This is my love for you. 

Mayhap m the night, 
When the dark beats back the lighty, > 
1 shall struggle too ... ~.i 

This is my love for you. . /. 

In your dream, once more, ' 

Will a star lead to my door? 
To stars and dreams be true' 
This is my love for you ... 

Cracc'FaUme Narim'[iS 



From " Blurt, Uutn Conslabh " 
Love for such a cheny Up 

Would be glad to pawn his arrows; 
Venus here to take a sip 

Would sell her doves and team of sparrows. 
But they shall not bo; 

Hey noiiny, nonny nol 

None but I this lip must owe; 

Hey nonny, nonny nol 

Did Jove see this wanton eye, 

Ganymede must wait no longer; 
Phcebe here one night did Jie, 
Would change her face and tocJc much younger. 
But they shall not so; 

Hey nonny, nonny no! 

None but 1 this lip must owe; 

Hey nonny, nonny nol 

nomas UidHa&n [is7o?-'i637l 

Ficm " CmUiU'i Rawb " 

O THAT joy SO soon should waste! 

Or so sweet a bliss 

As a kiss 
Might not for ever last! 
So sugared, so melting, so soft, so delicious, 

The dew that lies on roses, 

When the mom herself discloses, 
Is not so precious. 



A Stolen Ki« ^83 

O, rather than I would it smother. 
Were 1 to taste such anMber, 

It should be my wishing 

That I might die with kfs^g. 

Bat Jimwn [t SI 3f-i6i7] 

Tak£, O take those Ups away. 

That so sweetly were forsworn, 
And those eyes, the bic^ rA day, 

Lights that do mislead the mora; 
But my kissea bring again. 
Seals of love, bnt sealed in vain. 
Hide, O hide those hills of snow. 
Which thy frozen bosom bears, 
On whose tops the pinks that {row 
Are of those that April wearsl ' 
But first set my poor heart free. 
Bound in those icy chains by theel 
The ^sl slanai/rom " Measure /or iieasure," by 

WUliam Shakespeare [is64-i6i6l 
Tht second slamafrom " The Bloody Brothers," by 

John Fletcher [1579-1615] 

Now gentle sleep hath closed up those eyes 
Which, waking, kept my baldest thoughts in awe; 
And free access unto that sweet lip hea. 
From which I long the rosy breath to draw, 
Methinks no wrong it were, if I should steal 
From those two melting rubies one poor kiss; 
None sees the theft that would the theft reveal. 
Nor rob I her of aught that she can miss; 
Nay, should I twenty kisses take away, 
There would be little sign I would A6 4o; 
Why then should I this robbery delay? 
O, she may wake, and therewith angty growl 
WeU if she do, I'll back restore that one,. 
And twenty hundred thousand more for loan. 

George Wither I1S8S-1667) 


68^ Poems of Lo^^e 

SONG ; ■ 

Mv Love bound mc with a kiss 

That I should no lonRcr stay; 
When I fek so sweet a bliss 

I had less pov/er to part away: , ,. 
Alas! that women do not know 
Kisses make men loath to go. 

Yes, she knows it but too weU, 

For I heard when Venus' dove 
In her ear did softly tell 

That kisses were the seals of love: 
muse not then though it be so, 
Kisses make men loath to go. 

Wherefore did she thus inflaire 

My desires, heat my blood, 
Instantly to quench the smoc 

And starve whom she had given food? 
Ay, ay, the common sense can show. 
Kisses make men loath to go. 

Had she bid me go at first 

I would ne'er have grieved my heart 
Hope delayed had been the worst; 

But ah to kiss and then to part! -' 

How deep it struck, speak, gods! you knoir .',' 
Kisses make men loath to go. . ' 

,, I DARE not ask a kiss, , , 

I dare not beg a smile, , . y 

Lest having that, or this, 
I might grow proud the while. 

No, no, (ho utmost share " ' 

Of my desire shall be ' ■ ' 

Only to kiss that air 
' That lately kissed thcc. ' ■ ' 

Robirl Berrick [1591-16^4! 


A lUddle 1685 


CoiiE, Chloe, £uid give me sweet kisses, 
. For sweeter sure never gjjd gave; 
But why in the midst of my bJisaes, 

Do you ask me how many I'd have? 
I'm not lobe stinted iitpkaeui^ 

Then, prithee, mychanner, be kind, 
For whilst I lovethee above measure. 

To numbets I'll ne'er be (xmfined. 

Count the bees that on Hybia are playing, 

Count the flowcre that enamel lis fields, 
Count the flocks that on Tt-mpe are straying. 

Or the grain that rich Sicily yields. 
Go number the stars in the heaven. 

Count how many sands on the shore, 
When so many kisses you've given, 

I still shall be craving for more. 

To a heart full of love, let me hold thee. 

To a heart that, dear Chloe, is thine; 
In my arms I'll for ever enfold thee, 

And twist round thy limbs like a vine. 
What joy can be greater than this is? 

My life on thy lips shall be spent! 
But the wretch that can number his kisses. 

With few will be ever content. 

Charles llanbiiry Williamx [1708-1759] 


I Au just two and two, I am warm, I am cold. 
And the parent of munbers that camiot be told, 
I am lawful, unlawful — a duty, a fault — 
I am often sold dear, good for nothing vhtoi bbn^; 
An extraordinary boon, and a matter of course, 
And yielded with pleasure when taken by force. ' 

WilKoM Cowfer (1731-1800] 


Poems of Love 


Soft duld of love, thou balmy bliss, 
Infonn me, O delicious kiss, 
Why thou so suddenly art gone. 
Lost in the moment thou art won? 

Yet go! For wherefore should I a^ 
On Delia's lips, with raptured eye, 
On Delia's blushing lips I see 
A thousand full as sweet as thec^ 

John Wokol [17JS-1810I 


Otten I have heard it said 
That her lips are ruby-red. 
Little heed I what they say, 
I have seen as red as they. 
Ere she smiled on other men, 
Real rubies were they then. 

When she kissed me once in play. 
Rubies were less bright than they. 
And less bright than those which shone 
In the palace of the Sun. 
Will they be as bright again? 
Not if kissed by other men. 

Walter Sovagt Landor I177S-1M4I 


AwaX with your fictions of flimsy romance. 
Those tissues of falsehood which lolly has novel 

Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, 
Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. 

p:hy Google 

"Jenny Kissed Mc" 6%y 

Ye diymeis, whose bosoms with phaotasy j^ow. 
Whose pastoral passions are made iot (he grove; 

From what blest ioqiimtion your sonoetf would:flow. 
Could you ever have tasted the first kisG of love I 

If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse. 
Or the Nine be disposed from your service to Tove, 

Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse, 
And try the effect of the first kus of Love. 

I hate you, ye cold compositions of art ! 

Though prudes may condemn me, and bigoU reprove, 
1 court the effusions that spring from t^e heart, 

Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love. 

Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes, 
Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move: 

Arcadia displays but a region of dreuns; 
What are visions like these to the first kiss of love? 


Jenny kissed me when we met. 

Jumping from the chair she sat in; 
Time, you thief, who love to get 

Sweets into your list, put that inl 
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, 

Say that health and wealth have missed me, 
Say I'm growing rfd, but add, 
Jomy kissed me. 



69^ ■ Poems of Love 

I TEAR thy kisses, gentle maiden; 
Thou needest not fear n^ne; 
My spirit Ie too deeply laden 
Ever to bunhen thine. 

1 fe^ thy mien, thy tODM, thy motion; 

Thou needest not fear mine; 
Innocent is the heart's devotion 
With which I worship thine. 

Percy Bysshe ShdUy [1792-1811] 

The fountains mingle with the rncr, 

And the rivers with the ocean. 
The winds of heaven mix forever 

With a sweet emotion; 
Nothing in the world is single; , 

All things by a law divine 
In one another's being minglej — 

Why not I with thine? 

See the mountains kiss high heaven, 

And the waves clasp one another; 
No sister flower would be forgiven 

If it disdained its brother; 
And the sunlight clasps the earth, 

And the moonbeams kiss the sea; 
What are all these kissings north. 

If thou kiss not me? 

Percy BysskeSkdUy \iT)t-\&it\ 



Th£ moth's kiss, fiistl 

Kiss me as if you made believe 

YoR were not sure, this eve. 

p:hy Google 

The i?irst Kips i^»^ 

.EIow,iay iacv, you^ Sower, .b^ pursed . 
Its petals up; so, h^e aDd there 
You bflush it, till I grow aware , , 

Who wants me, and wide ope 1 burst. , ; 

The bee's kiss, now I 
Kiss me as if you entered gay 
My heart at some noonday, 
A bud that dares not disallow 
The claim, so ail is rendered up, 
And passively its shattered, cup 
Over your head to sleep I bow. 

R«btTt Browning [iSii-iSSo] 


All the breath and the bloom of the ye&r iu the tO-K of one 
All the wondtf and wealth of the mine in the heart of one 
Id the core of one pearl all the shade and the shioQ qf the sea : 
Breath and bloom, shade and shine, — wonder, wealth, 
and — how fat above th«n — - 

Truth, that's briefer than gem. 
Trust, that's purer than pearl, — ' 
Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe — all were for me 
In the kiss of one girl. r 

Robert Brooming liaii-iSSg] 


If only in dreaqi^ may mui be fully bleet, 
Is heaven a dream? Is she I clasped a dream? 
Or stood she here even now where dcwdropa gleam 

And miles of furze shine golden down the WestP 

I seem to clasp her still — stiU on my bceatt 
Her bosom beats,— I see the blue eyes beam: — 
I think she kissed these lips, for now they seem 

Scarce mine; sa ha^w«d of the lips they pressed! 

p:hy Google 

690 Poems of Love 

Yon thicket's breath — can that be eglantine? 

Those birds — can they be morning's choristers? 

Can this be earth? Can these be banks of furze^ 
Like burning bushes fired of God they dune! 
I seem to know them, though this body of mine 

Passed into spirit at the touch of hers! 

Theodore WaUs-Dtmton {1836-1914] 


Kiss me softly and speak to me low; 

Malice has ever a vigilant ear; 

What if Malice were lurking near? 

Kiss me, dearl 

Kiss me softly and sp«ak to loe low. 

Kiss me softly and spe^ to me low; 

Envy, too, has a watchful ear; 

What if Envy should chance to bear? 
Kiss me, dear! 
Kiss me softly and speak to me low. 

Kiss me softly and speak to me low; 
Trust me, darling, the time is near 
When lovers may love with never a fear; 
Kiss me, dearl 
Kiss me softly and speak to me low. 

JolmGodfrtySaxt I1816- 


Gtve me kisses! Do not stay, 
Counting in that careful way. 
All the coins your lips can print 
Never will exhaust the mint. 

Kiss me, then, 
Every moment— and again! 

Give me kissest Do not stop, 
Measuring nectar by the drop. 


Make Believe 69 1 

Thon^ to millioos they amount, ' 
They wSI never drain the fount. 

Kiss me, then, 
Every moment — and againi 

Give me kisseGt All is waste 
Save the liaury we taste; 
And for kiselng, — kisses live 
Only when we t«ke or give. 

Kiss me, then, 
Every moment — and again! 

Give me kisses I Though their worth 
Far exceeds the gema of earth, 
Never pearls so rich and pure 
Cost so tittle, I am sure. 
Kiss me, then, 
Every moment — and againi 

Give me kissesl Nay, 'tis true 
1 am just as rich as you; 
And for eveiy kiss I owe, 
I can pay you back, you know. 

Kiss me, then, 
Every moment — and again! 

Jolm Godfrey Suae (1816-1887] 


Kiss me, though you make believe; 

Kiss me, though I almost know 
You are kissing to decdve; 

Let the tide one moment flow 
Backward ere it rise and break, 
Only for poor pity's sake! 

Give me of your flowen one leaf, 
Give me of yonr smiles tatt imife, 

BackwBfd roll this tide of griej 
Just B monient, though, the while, 


6^j Poems of Love 

I should feel and almost lutow 
You are trifling with ray wge. 

- Whisper to me sweel and low; 
Tell me how you sit and weave 
Dreams about mc, though I know 

It is only make believe! 
Just a moment, though 'tia plain 
You are jesting with my pain. 

Atke Cory |i82o-ig;i| 


Some say that kissiug's a sin; 

But 1 think it's nane ava, 
For kissing has wonn'd in this waild 

Since ever that there was twa. 

O, if it wasna lawfu' 

Lawyers wadna allow it; 
If it wasna holy, 

Ministers wadna do it. 

If it wasna modest, 

Maidens wadna tak' it; 
If it wasna plenty, 

Puir folk wadna get it. 

How many kisses do I ask? 
Now you set me to my task. 
First, sweet Anne, will you tell me 
How many waves are in the sea? 
How many stars are in the sky? 
How many lovers you make ugh? 
How many sands are cm the stiote? 
I shall want just one kiss la^re. 

Wiiiian SlMni'UaxtttH |i8i8-iSr8) 


Phillis and Corydon 692 


There is njitoy a love in the laad, my love. 

But never a love Kke this is; 
Then kill me dead with your love, my love. 

And cover me up with kisses. 

So kill me dead and cover me deep , 

Where never a. soul discovers; 
Deep in your heart to sleep, to sleep, ^ 

In the darlingest tomb of lov^. 

Joaquin Millar \1S4t~19ti] 


Philus took a red rose from the tangks of her hair, — 
Time, the Golden Age; the place, Arcadia, anywhere, — 

Phillis laughed, the saucy jade: "Sr Shepherd, wilt have 

Or"— Bashful god of skif^iing laiobe and oaten Koifit — "a 

kiss?" |. '. ■! 

Bethink tb«e, gentle. CoTydcm! A rose ksta all zo^t lotlff, 
A kiss but sl4>s from ofi yottr l^is like a tbru^'a evening 

Corydon made his choice and, took — Well, which do, you 
suppose? . ,' 

Arthur CoUon |i86S- 




Fnim "CTmbcline" 

Hake, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, 

And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 

On chaliced flowers that lies; 
And winUng Mary-buds begin 

To ope their golden eyes: 
With everything that pretty bin, 

My lady sweet, arise: 
Atise, uiae. 

Wmam Siu>l»st«iin Us4tTi6i6] 

Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me! 

Pot who a sleeping lion dares provoke? 
It shall suffice me here to ^t and see 

Those lips shut up, that never kindly ^xike: 
What if^t can more content a lover's mind ~" ' ' ' 
Than beauty seeming hannless, }f not kind? 
My words have charmed her, for secure she sleeps. 

Though guilty much o( wrong done to my love; . 

And in her slumber, see! she close-eyed freeps; 

Dreams often more thaq waking passions move. . 
Plead, Sleep, my cause, and make her soft like thee: 
Hiat she is peace may waJte and pity me. 

Thomas Campion | P -i6id] 

Rise, Lady Mistress, risel 

The night hath tedious been; 
Ko sleep hath fallm into mine eyes 
Nor slumbers made me sin. 


Morning fip^ 

Is not she a saint then, say. 
Thoughts of whom keep sia awayP 
Rise, Madam I rise and give me li^t, 

Whom darkness still wiU cover, 
And ignoian«, daricer than night, 

Till thou smile on thy lover. 
All want day till thy beauty nse; 
For the gray mom breaks from thine eyes. 

Nathaniel FUU I1587-1633I 

Her eyes the glow-wonn lend thee, 
The shooting stars attend thwi. 

And the elves also, 

Whose littk eyes glow 
Like the ;q»Tks of fiie, befriend thee. 
No WiD-o'-tbe-wisp mislight thee. 
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; 

But on, on thy way 

Not making a stay. 
Since ghost the(p's none to affright thee. 
Let not the dark thee cumber: 
What though the moon does slumber? 

The stats of the night 

Vf^ lend thee their light 
Like tapers clear without number. 
Then, Julia, let me woo thee,. 
Thus, thus to come unto me; 

And when I shall meet 

Thy silvery feet. 
My soul I'll pour unto thee. 

Robert UeTrick [1501-1674] 

The laik now leaves bis watery nest. 

And climbing shakes his dewy wings, 
He takes your window lor the east. 

And to implore your light, he sings; 


6^6 PoeBirf of Love 

Awake, awake, the mom viU never rhe, 
Till she can dress her beauty at yoUr eyts. ' ' 
The merchant bon's unto the seaman's atar, ■ 

The ploughman from the sun his season takes; 
But still the lover wonHers tfhat they are, 

Who look for day before his mistress wakes; 
Awake, awake, break through yoar veils of lawnl 
Then draw your curtains and begin the dawn. 

Witliam D'Avenanl [i6o6-i668t 


tma "Tba Rape U Luattt" , . ., ' •. 

Paoc, clouds, away, and welcome, day^ '' 

With night we banish sorrow. 
Sweet air, blow soft; mount, la^, aloft 

To give my Love good-moirowl i 

Wings from the wind to pleaee het n^nd 

Notes from the lark I'll borrow; . 
Bird, prune thy wing, nightingalt^ sing, 
To give my Love good-morrow; 
To give my Love good -morrow 
Notes from ihem bolh I'll borrow. 
Wake from thy nest, Robiu-red-breasti^- 

Sing, birds, in every furrow; 
And from each hill, let music shrill 
Give my fair Love good-morrow! 
Blackbird and thrush in every bush. 

Stare, linnet, anil cock-sparrow,- 
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves ' 
Sing my fair Ijjvc good -morrow; 
To give my Love prnd-morrow 
Sing, binls, in every furrow! 

Thomas II eyipood [ ? -1650?] 

Sweet, serene, sfcy-^likc flower, 
Hoete to adoni the bower; 
Pftmi thy lon^-doudy bed, ' 

■ %aot forth thy.damask head- 

p:hy Google 

:iMary Moradfi ;65ii7 

NMvufiiattkd blush of Fk«a, 
Tbe ^ki of pale AuJKfra 
(Whs will coolest no more), 
Haste, haete to atiew her floor! 
Vermilion hall that's given 
■ From lip to lip in Heaven; 
Love's couch's eoverled, 
Haste, haste to make her bed. 
Dear olTspring of pleased Venus - 
And jolly, plump Silenus, 
Haste, haste to deck the hair 
Of the only sweetly fair! 
Seel rosy is her bower, 
Her floor is all this flower 
. Her bed a rosy nest 
By a bed (rf roses [H-eased. 
But early as she dresses, 
Why fly you her bright tresses? 
Ah! I have found, I fear, — 
Because her cheeks are near. 

Richard Lmdace [i<3i8-i65Sl 


SEE^see, she wakes! Sabioa wakes! , , ^ 
- And now. the sun begins to rise; 
Less glorious is the morn that breaks 

From his bright beams, than her fair eyes. 
With light united, day they give; 

Biit different fatet ere ni^t fulfil; 

How mai^ by his warmth will live! 

How many will her coldness killl 

William Congrem li67o-i73g] 

O Maby, at thy window be, 

It is the wished, the trysted hour? 
Those smiles and ^aaces.let'Bie see, j 

Tbat'Buike the mtact's tneameL pooi) : 

p:hy Google 

698 Poems of Love 

How blithely wad I bide the stoor 

A weary slave frae sun to aun, 
Could I the rich reward secure, 

The lovely Mary MorisonI 

Yestreen, when to the trembling string 

The dajice gaed through the lighted ha'. 
To thee my fancy took its wing, 

I sat, but neither heard nor saw: 
Thou^ this was fair, and that naa braw. 

And yoD the toast of a' the town, 
I sighed, and said amang them a', 

"Ye arena Mary Morison." 

O Mary, canst tbou wreck hia pfcace, 

Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? 
Or canst thou break that heart of his, 

Whase only faut is loving thee? 
If love for love thou wiltna gie, 

At least be pity to me shown; 
A thought imgentle canna be 

The thought o' Mary Morison. 

Robert Bumi U7S9-l796\ 

Up! quit thy bower! late wears the hour. 
Long have the rooks cawed round the tower; 
O'er flower and tree loud hums the bee. 
And the wQd kid sports merrily. 
The sun is bright, the sky b clear: 
Wake, lady, wakel and hasten hn^ 

Up! maiden fair, and bind thy hair, 
And rouse thee in the breezy air! 
The lulling stream that soothed thy dream 
Is dancing in the lunny beam. 
Waste not these hours, so fresh and gay; 
■Leave thy soft couch, and liaste away! 

Up! Time will tell the^metsmgbett 
Its nivlce40iiiid has cMm&l wall; 


"The Young May Moon" 699 

The aged crone keeps house atone. 
The Teapers to the fields aie gone.- 
Lose not these hours, go cool and' gay: 
Lol while thou sleep'st they haste away! 

Jeaana Bailiit [ij6i~iS5iI 


Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awlule — 
TboQgb shut 90 close thy laughing eyes, . 
Thy rosy lips still wear a smile 
And move, and breathe delicious sighsl 

Ah, now soft blushes tinge ber cheeks 
And mantle o'er her oeck of snow: 
Ah, now she murmurs, now she speftka 
What most I wish — and fear to know! 

She starts, ^e trembles, and she weeps! 
Her fair hands folded on her breast; 
— And now, how like a saint she sleeps! 
A seraph In the realms'of rest! 

Sleep on secure! Above control 
Thy thoughts bcteng to Heaven and thee: 
And may the secret of thy soul 
Remain within its sanctuary! 

Saamd Rogers I1763-185SI 



Whe vel 

T^ my dear, 

o steal a fsw boUr« from the night, my dead 

D,g,t,7P:hy Google 

. Poems of Lore 

Now all the world ie keeping, love, 

But the Sage, his st&r-naLch keeping, lovej 

And I, whose star 

More glorious far 
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. 
Then awake!^ — till rise of sun, my dear. 
The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear, 

Or in watching the flight 

or bodies of light 
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear! 
Thomas Moon [iti^-iSsil 

Row gently here. 
My gondolier, 
So softly wake the tide. 
That not an ear. 
On earth, may hear. 
But hers to whom wc glide. 
Had Heaven but tongues to speak, as well 

As starry eyes to sec, 
Oh think what talcs 'twould have to tell 
Of wandering ypuths like me! 
Now rest tb«e heie. 
My gondolier; 
Hush, hush, for up I go, 
To climb yon light 
Balcony's height. 
While thou keep'st watch below. 
Ah! did wc take for Heaven above 

But half such pains as we 

Take, day and night, for woman's love. 

What angeb we should bel 

Thomas Moore (i779-i8sal 


Awake! the dawn is on the hitis! 

Behold, at her cool throat a rose. 

Blue-eyed and beairtitrf she goes, 

' ■ Leaving hcfistepg in dsfiodilfi." ■ i 


■Sertnade 701 

Aw^el oibel and let me see - 1 '/ 

Thine eyes, whose deeps epitmine' ' 

All dawns that were or are to be, 

O'love, ail Heaven in thine eyes!— 
Awake! arisel comedown to mel 
Behold! the dawn is up: behotd! 

How all tTie birds around her float, ■ ' 

Wild rills of music, note on note, 
Spilling the air with mellow gold.—' 
Arise! awake! and, drawing near. 

Let me but bear thee and rejoice! 
Thou, who keep'st captive, sweet and clear, 

All soBg, love, -within thy vdcel 
Arise! awake! an<^ let me bear! 
See, where she comes, with Iiiid» of duy. 

The dawn! with wild-rose hands\ feet, 

Within whose veins the sunbeams beat, 
And laughters meet of wind trad ray. 
Arise! come downl and, heart to heart. 

Love, let me clasp in thee all these—* 
The sunbeam, of whidijtfaou art part) 

And all the rapture of the breeze! — 
Arise! come down! loved that thou artl 

Madison Cawnn [1365-1914! 

SofTLY, O midnif^t Hours! 

Move softly o'er the bowers 
Where lies in happy sleep a ^rl so fair! 

For ye have power, men say. 

Our hearts in sleep to sway, 
And cage cold fancies in a moonlight snare. , 

Round ivory neck and arm 

Enclasp a separate charm; 
Hang o'er her .poised, but breathe nor sigh nor prayer: 

Silently ye mfiy smile. 

But hold your breath the while, 
And let the wind sweep back your cloudy hairl 

■Bend dowiiyour glHtcring urns. 
Ere yet the dawn returns, 


)! Poems of Love 

And star with dew the Iawq hex ieit dull tread; 

Upon the ui rain batan, 

Bid all the woods be cahn. 
Ambrosial dreams with beatefaful slumbeis wed; 

That so the Maiden may 

With smiles your care repay, 
Whea from her couch she lifts her golden head; 

Waking with earliest birds, ; 

Ere yet the misty herds 
Leave warm 'mid the gray grass their dusky bed. 

Aubrty Thomas De Vere [1814-1901] 

I AsiSB from dreams oE thee 
In the ficst sweet deep of ni^, 
Wben the winds are btvatbing low. 
And the stais are shining blight. 
I arise from dieamB of thee. 
And a spirit in my feet 
Has led me— -^lo knows how? 
To t^ ckauber window, tweetl - 

The wandering airs they faint 

On the dark, the silent stream; 

The champak odors fail 

Like sweet thoughts in a dream; 

The nightingale's complaint, . 

It dies upon her heart, 

As I must die on thine; 

belovM as thou art!. , . 

lilt me from the grass! 

1 die, I faint, I faill 

Let thy love in kisses rain 
On my Ups and eyelids pale. 
My cheek is cold and white, alas! 
My heart b^ts loud and, fast; 
, Gbl pre^'it close to thine agab',' 
Where it must break at last. 

■ ... I 

p:hy Google 


Good-night? ah I no; the hour is ill 
Which severs those it should unite; 

Let ua remain together still, 
Then it will be good night. 

How can I call the lone night good, 
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? 

Be it not said, thought, understood, 
Then it will be good night. 

To hearts which near each other move 
From evening close to morning light, 

The night is good; because, my love, 
tliey never say good-night. 

Percy Byssht Shelley [i}g3-i8»»l 



Awake thee, ray lady-love. 

Wake thee and risel 
The SUQ through the bower peeps 

lata thine eyes I 

Behold how the early lark 

Springs from the com! 
Hark, hark how the flower-bird 

Wnds her wee horn! 

The swalloWs ^ad ^irlek is hiard 

All throu^ the air; 
The stock-dove is murmunng 

Loud » she dare! 

Apollo's winged bugleman ; 

Cannot contain, . , < 

But peals his kiud tnunpet-call, 

(hice and agunl . : ; .n.,|.' 


Poems of I^ve 

Then wake thee, my lady-love — 

Bird of my bower! 
Tfae,sweetest andsleepi^t , 

Bird at this hour! 

George Darity |>79$-iS46) 

Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how 

I wake and passionate watches keep; 
And yet, while I address thee now, 

Methinks thou smilcst ir thy sleep. 
'Tb sweet enough to make me weep, 

That tender thought of love and thte, ' 
That while the world is hushed so deepj 

Thy aoiil's perhaps awake to me! ' 
Sleep on, deep on, sweet bride of sleep! 

With golden visions for thy dower, 
While I this midnic^t vigil keep, 

And bless thee tn thy silent bower; 
To me 'tis sweeter than the power 

Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfiirted, 
That I alone, at this still hour, 

In patient love outwatch the world. ■ 

rhmoj /TtW (irgo-iStsi 


Look out upon the stars, my love, 

And shame them with thine eye?,; 
On which, than on the lights above. 

There baog mpre tjcatinies, 
Night's beauty is the harmony ,; . 

Of blending BLu(le« and tight: 
Then, lady, up,— look out, ami b^. ) 

A sister to the night! 
Sleep not!— iKftie image irtkeS tor laye' 

Within my watching bWast; 
Sleep noi'f-^from her 'sdfe sl»p s>rtiitd ifly. 

Who robs all hearts Wd^v> •■'•'^ 

p:hy Google 

Serenade 705 

Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break. 

And make this darkness gay, 
With looks whose brightness well might make 

Of darker nights a day. 

Edward CoaU Pinbm^ \iao2-i6ii\ 

Hide, happy damask, from the stars,' 

Ah! dearest! may the elves that sway 

■ ,Thy fancies come from epierald. ploU,^ ,. ,, 

Where they have dozed and dreamed all day 

In hearts of blue forget-me-nots. 
And one perhaps shall whisper thus; , : > 

Awake! and'light the darilntesySwtetil i 
MMe thou an jievelihg with us, 1 ■ ) 
He watches in tUe kmely street. 

Emry Tirnnd li$irti67] 

Fnnl " Th* Seoob^ SUideU " ' ' . / 

SiAKsof the summer night! ' 

Far in yon azure deeps, ' '■ ' ' ' 

Hide, hide your golden light! ' ■ ■' 

She sleeps! '■•■ 

My lady sleeps! , 


Moon of the summer night! ;, 

Far donn yon western sleeps, , ,- 

Suik,_^^ in silver ligbtl ■. r , ' 

p:hy Google 

706 Poems of Love 

She sleeps! 
My lady sleeps! 

Wind of the summer nightt 

Where yonder woodbine cieeps. 

Fold, [old thy pinions light ! 
She sleeps! 

My lady sleepsi . , 


Dreams of the summer night 1 
Tell her, het lover keeps 

Watch! while in slumbers light 
She sleeps! 

My lady sleeps! 
Bmry Wadsviorlk LongMloK (1807-1 


FiDU " Maud " 

Come into the garden, Mitud, 
For the black bat, night, has flown, 

Come into the garden, Maud, .' 

I am here at the gate alone; 

And {h£ woodbine spices are wafted abroad, 
And the musk of the rose is bbwn. 

' For a breeze of morning moves, 
And the planet of Love is on Mgh, 

Beginning to bint in the light that she ioves 
On a bed of dafiodil sky, 

To faint in the light of the sun she lovei. 
To faint in his light, and to die. 

All m'ght have the roses heard 

The flute, violin, bassoon; 
All night has the casement jessamine stirred 

To the dancers dancing in tune; 
Till a silence fell with the waking bird. 

And a buafa with the setting moon. 

p:hy Google 

"Come Into the Garden, Maud" 707 

I said to the Ely, "TTiere is but one 

With whom she has heart to be gay. 
When will the dancers leave her alone? 

She b weary of dance and play." 1 

Nov half to the setting moon are gone, 

And half to t?ie rising day; 
Low on the sand and loud on the stone 

The last wheel echoes away. 

I said to the rose; "The brief night goes 
In tubble and revd and nine. , 

O young 'lord>]ov«r, what sighs one tlvise, 
For one that wiD never be thine? 

But mine, but mine," so I swane to the loso, ■ 
"For ever and ever, mine." 

And the soul »rf the rose went into my blood, / 

As the music dashed in the hall: 
And long by the garden lake I stood, _ , . ,. 

For I heard your rivulet fall . ; , ; 

From the la^a to the, meadow and on.^^j ^0^, 

Our wood, thu is dearer than all; ,. 

From the meadow your walks have left so sweet 

That whenever a March-wind sighs 
He sets the jewel-print of your feet 

In violets blue as your eyes, 
To the woody hollows in which we meet 

And the valleys of Paradise. 

Thti slender acacia would not shake 

One long niiltUoom on the tree; 
The white lake-blossom Jell into the lake 

As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; 
But the rose was awake all night for your sake, 

Knowing your promise tome; ' 

The lilies and roses were all awake, ■ ' 

They sighed for tbe dawn and thee. ' 

p:hy Google 


Poems of Love 

Queen rose of the rosebud garden ol girls, 

Come hither, the dances are done, 
In gloss o( satin and glimmer ol pearls, 

Queen lily and rose in one; 
Shine out, liule head, sunning over with curls, 

To the flowers, and be their sun. 

There has fallen a splendid tear 

From the passion-flower at the gate. 
She is coming, my dove, my dear; 

She is coming, my life, my fate; 
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near";' 

And the white rose weeps, "She is laie"; 
The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear"; 

And the Kly vAispers, "I wait," 

She is coming, my own, my sweet; 

Were it ever so airy a tread, 
My heart would hear her and beat. 

Were it earth in an earthy bed; 
My dust would hear her and beat. 

Had I lain for a century dead; 
Would start and tremble under her teet, 

And blossom in purple and red. 

Alfrid Tennyson 1 1809-18 


Tlucanl ytiai' 
Lrl Psydir, vkt rantn 

Tin pifden "f sprint. 
Rtmrmbrr iM^ntK 

Duimbirwill I'lii't- 

Beating Heart ! wc come again 

Where my Love reposes: 
This is Mabel's window-pane; 

These are Mabel's roses. 

Is she nested? Does she kneel 

In the twilight stilly, 
Lily clad from throat to heel, 
She, my virgin Liiy? 


Bedouin Song 709 

Soon the wan, the wistful stars, 

Fading, will forsake her; 
Elves of light, on beamy bats. 

Whisper then, and wake her. 

Let this friendly pebble piead 

At her flowery grating; 
If she hear me will she heed? 

Mabel, I am itiailing. 

Mabel mU be decked anon, 

Xoned in bride's appaiel; 
Happy Eonel Oh haik tt> yon 

Passion-shaken carol 1 

Sing thy song, thou tranced thrush, 

Pipe thy best, thy clearest; — 
Hush, her lattice moves, oh hush — 

Dearest Mabel I — dtaresi. . . . 

Frederick Locker-Lampson [iSii-iBojl 


From the Desert I come to thee 

On a stallion shod with fire; 
And the winds are left behind 

In the speed of my desire. 
Under thy window I stand, 

And the midnight hears my cry: 
I love thee, I love bui. thee, 
With a love that shall not die 
Till Ike tun groat celd. 
And the stars are «ld, 
And Sit lemns ef tka Jtidfmtnt ' 
Book unfold I 

Lo(A from \hy window and see 

My passion and my pain; 
I He on the sands below. 

And I faint in thy disdain. 

p:hy Google 

Poems of Love 

Let the nighl-ninds touch thy hn>w 
With the heat of my bunjing sigh, 
And meJt thee to hear the vow 
Of a love that shall not die 
Till the sun grows cold, 
And the stars are aid, 
And the leaves of Ike Judgment 
Book unfold I 

My steps are nightly drivui, 
By the fever in my bceoft, 
To hear from thy lattice brtethed 

The word that shall give me real. 
Open the door of thy heart, 

And open thy chamber door, 
And my kisses shall teach thy lips 
The love that shall fade no more 
Till Ike sun grows cold. 
And the stars art old. 
And the leaves of the Judgmenl 
Book unfold I 

Bayard Taylor Ii8;5-ii 


£nidi "Enot Msltnven" 

When stars are in the quiet skies, 

Then most I pine for thee; 
Bend on me. then, thy tender eyes. 
As stars look on the sea! 

For thoughts, like waves that glide by night, 

Are stillest when they shine; 
Mine earthly love lies hushed in light 

Beneath the heaven of thine. 

There is an hour when angels keep 

Familiar watch o'er men, 
When coarser souls are wrapDed in sieep — 

Sweet spirit, meet me then 


Palabras CarioOGas 

Hieieis an ham when boJy dj«aDia 
Through ahnnbor fairett glide; 

And in that mystic hour it seans 
Tbou ahonidst be by my side. 

To her scarlet lip she holds faim, , 

And kisses him many a timt; — 
Ah, me! it was he that won her 
Because he dared to climb! . 

Thomas Baiiey Aldrich ['8j7-igo7| 



GooD-NlGHTl 1 have lo say gpod-nigjit 
To such a host of peerless thingsl 
Good-Dtgbt uato the slender hand . 
All queenly with its wei^t of rin^ 


Poems of Lovo 

Good-night to fond, upWed eyet, 
Good-night to chestnut braids of hair. 
Good-night unto the perfect nouth. 
And ah the sweetness nestled these — 

The snowy hand detains me, then 

I'll have to say Good-nighl again! 

But there will come a lime, my love. 

When, if I read our stars aright, 

I shall not linger by (his porch 

With my farewells. Till then, good-nlghtl 

You wish the lime were now? And I. 

You do not blush to wish it so? 

You would have blushed yourself lo death 

To own so much a year ago^ 

What, both these snowy handst ah, then 

I'll have to say Good-night again! 

Tkenujs BidUy AUrkk [lin-ivn] 


The western wind is blowing fail 

Across tJie dark jEgean sea, 
And at the. secret marble stair 

My Tyrian galley waits for thee. 

Come down! the purple sail is spread, 

The watchman sleeps within the town; 
leave thy lily-flowered bed, 
.0 Lady mine, come down, come down! 

She will not come, I know her well, 

Of lover's vows «he fcath no tan, 
And little good a man can tell 

Of one so cruel and so fair. 
True love is but a woman's toy, ' 

They iiever know the lover's prin, 
And I, who love as loves a boy, 

Must Ibve in vain, must love in v&in. 


The Lilttle Red tftrfc 

O noble pilot,' teil nW trtiei ' 

Is that the ^Nsn ot golden hair? 
Or b it but the tangled dew 

That bindathe paasJoti-&>weiB there? 
Good sailor, come and tell ffie iu>», 

Is that my Lady's lily hand? ' 
Or is it but the gleaming proV, 

Or is it but the siWer s^d? ■ 


Wliom we must Dear irom ujcv>ab ^rel 
The waning sky grows (aint and blue; 

It wants aji hour still of day; ^ 

Aboard! aboard! my gallant crew, '^ 

O Lady mine, away ! away ! 
noble pilot, steer for Troy! ..' 

Good siulor, ply the laboring oat! 
O lovedM auly lovcB a boy! i' 

O loVed for ei«r, evermore! 


O SWAN oi sleodemess, 

Dove of teiidenessy ; 

JewelvOf joys, arisf I ■ ■ ■ 

The httle red lark,, 
. Like a soaring spark 

Of song, to his sunburst flies; ' 
But till thou art arisen, , , 

p:hy Google 

711). Poebis of haive ' 

The dawn is daric to me. 
Hark! oh, haric to me, 
Puise of my heart, I ptayl 
And out of thy hiding 
With blushes gliding, 

Dazzle me with thy day. 
Ah, then once more to thee 
Flying I 'II pour to thee 

By day my timid passions Btand 

Like begging children at your gate, 
Each with a mute, appealing hand 

To ask a dole of Fate; 
But when night coines, released Trom iloubt, 

Like merry minstrels they appear, 
The stars ring out their hopeful shoutj 

Beloved, can you heaci' 
They dare not sing to you by day 

Their all-desirous song, oc take 
The world with their adventurous lay 

For your enchanted sake. 
But when the night-wind wakes and thrills 

The shadows that the night unbard. 
Their music fills the dreamy hills, ' 

D,g,t,7P:hy Google 



Sing lulbby, as -women do, 

Wtwrewith they bring their babes to test; 
And hiilaby can I sing too. 

As womanly as can the best. 
With lullaby they still the child; 
And if I be not much beguiled. 
Full many a wanton babe have I, 
Which must be stilled with lullaby. 

First lullaby my youthful years, 

It b now time to go to bed: 
For crookM age and hoary hairs 

Have won the haven within my head. 
With lullaby, then, youth be still; 
With lullaby content thy will; 
Since courage quails and comes behind; 
Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind I 

Next lullaby my gazing eyes, 
Which wonted were to glance apace; 

For every glass may now suffice 
To show the furrows in thy face. 

With hdlaby then wink awhile; 

With lullaby your looks beguile; 

Let no fair [ace, nor beauty bright, ' 

Entice you ett with vain delight. 

And lullaby my wanton will; 

Let reason's rule now reign thy thtraght; 
Since all too late I find by skill 

How dear I have thy fandea bought- 

p:hy Google 

7i6 Poems of Love 

With lullaby now take thine ease, 
With lullaby thy doubts af^)ease; 
For trust to this, if thou be still, 
My body shall obey tby will. 

Thus lujlaby my youth, mine eyes, 
My will, my ware, and all that was: 

I can-no more delays devise; 

But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. 

With lullaby now take your leave; 

With lullaby your dreams deceiYe; 

And when you rise with waking eye, 

Remember then this lidlaby. 

GtorgeGaaxritne |iS»S?-'S77] 


Js the merry mcHith of May, 
In a- mom by biieak of day, 
Forth I walked by the wood-side 
When as May was in his pride: 
There I ^ied all alone 
Fhillida and Condon. 
Much ado there was, God wotl 
He would love and she would not. i 

She said, Never man was true; 
He said, None was false to you. 
He said, He had loved ber long; ' 
She said, Love should have no wiOQg. 
Condon would kiss her then; 
She said, Maids must kiss no mea 
Till they did foi good and all; 
Then she made the shepherd call i 

All the heavens to witness truth ; 

Never loved a truer youth. 
Thus with many a pretty oath, 
■ -Yea and nay, and faith and I roth. 
Such as silly shepherds use 
When they will not Lave abusey 


"It Was a LoVer and His Lass" 717 

Love, which had been long deluded, ■ 
Was with kissee sweet concluded; 
And Phillida, with garlands gay. 
Was made the Lady of the May. 

Nicholas Brttm [t5iU?'I6i6?| 


Youth is wild, and Age is tame. 

Age, I do abhor thee; 

Youth, I do adore thee; 

0, my Love, my Love is ydung! 

Age, I do defy thee: 

O, sweet shepherd, hie thee! ' 

For raethinks thou stay'st loo long. 

William Shahespearc [is64-r6 


From " Ai Vou Lik* It " 

It was a lover and his lass, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 
That o'er the gre«h corn-tidd did pa^, 

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; 
Sweet lovers love the spring. 

p:hy Google 

71 8 ■ Poems of Love i 

Between the acres of the rye, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonftio. 
These pretty country folks would lie, ' 

In the spring time, the only pretty ling time. 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; 
Sweet lovers love the spring. 

This carol tl 

With a he 
How that lif 

In the spr ime, 

When birds 
Sweet lovers 

And, therefo 
With a he 

For love is c 

In the spr 

ttlien birds 

Sweet lovere 


I LOVED a lass, a fair one, 

As fair as e'er was seen; 
She was indeed a rare one. 

Another Sheba Queen: 
But, fool as then I was, 

I thought she loved me too: 
But now, alas! she's left me, 

Faiero, lero, loo I 

Her hair like gold did glister, 
Each eye was like a star, 

She did surpass her sister, 
Which passed all otheis far; 


"I .Lbvcd 8' LsBs" • 

She would me honey call, 

She'd— O she'd kiss me tool ' 
But now, alas! she's left me, 

Falero, lero, loo I 

Many i merry meeting 

My love and 1 have hadj ■ 
She was my only aweeting, 

She made my heart tuH glad; 
The tears stood in her ty^ 

Like to the morning dew: 
, Put now, aJas! she's left me, 

Falero, lero, loo I 

Her cheeks were like the cherryj 

Her skin was white as snow; 
When she was blithe and merry 

She angel-like did show; 
Her waist exceeding small, 

The fives did fit her shoe: 
But now, alasl she's left me, 

Falero, lero, loo 1 

In summer time or winter 

She had her heart's desire; ^ 
I still did scom to stint Iier 

From sugar, sack, or fire; 
The world went round about, 

No cares we ever knew: 
But now, alas! she's left me, 

Falero, lero, loo I 

, To maidens' vows and swearing 

Henceforth no credit give; . 

You may give them the hearing. 

But never them believe; , 
They are as false as fair, 

Unconstant, frail, untrue: 
For mine, alas! hath left me, ■ 
Falero, lero, tool • ■' 

GtefgicWMtr I1588-1 

p:hy Google 

■ Poems . of Love 


Ah, Chloris! that I now could sit 

As unconcerned as when 
Your infant beauty could beget 

No pleasure, nor no pain! 
When I the dawn used to admire, 

And praised the coming day, 
I little thought the growing tire 

MuEt take my rest &way. 

Your charms in harmless childhood lay 

Like metals in the mine; 
Age from no face took more away 

Than youth concealed in thine. 
But as your charms insensibly 

To their perfection pressed, 
Fond love as unperceived did fly, 

And in my bosom rest. 

My passion with your beauty grew. 
And Cupid at my heart. 


The merchant, to secure his treasure, 

Conveys it in a Iwrrowcd name: 
Eiiphelia serves to grace my measure; 
But CKloe is my real flame. 

My softest verse, my dariiog lyre, 

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay; 
When Chloe noted ber desin: 

That I should sing, that I should {^y. 


- Fair Hebe 

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; 

But with my numbers mix my sighs: 
And nldle I «Dg Euphdia'a praise, 

I fix my sbui on Oiloe's eyes. ■■■ 

Fair CUoe blushed: Eupheiia frowned: 

I sung, and gazed: I played, and trembled: 
t Aad Veaas to the L&ve$ around 

Remarked, how ill wc all dissembled. 

MaUhao Prior ] 1664-1 


PlOOS Selinda goes to prayers, 

If I but asic her favor; 
And yet the silly fool's in leara 

If she hclieves I'll leave her; 
Would I were free from this restraint, 

Or else had, hopes lo win her: 
Would she could make of me a saint. 

Or I of her a sinner. 

WHluim Congrene Ii67o- 


Fair Hebe I left, with a cautious design 

To escape from her charms, and to drown them in wine, 

I tried it; but found, when I came lo depart. 

The wine in myliead, and still love in my heart. 

I repaired to my Reason, entreated her aid; 
Who paused on my case and each circumstance weighed. 
Then gravely pronounced, in return to my prayer, 
That "Hebe was fairest of all that was fair!" 

"That's a truth," replied I, "I've no need to be taught; 
I came for your counsel to find out a fault." 
"If that's all," quoth Beason, "return as you came; 
To find fault with Hriie, would forfeit my name." 

p hyGoogle 

i722 Poems of Love 

What hopes then, akal of relief from myiwiDi 

While, like lightning, she darts' thjQugh each UunbbingvoD? 

My Senses surprised, in her favor lode Brttu; > 

And Reason confirms mc a slave to heichanUB-i 

John Wtst |i6<u-iT6e| 


From " The ContriviBec* "* 

T Gentecl in personage, 

\i Conduct, and equipage, 

\ Noble by heritage, 

Generous and free: 

Brave, not romantic; 

Learned, not pedantic; 

Frolic, not frantic; 

This must he be. 

Honor maintaining, 
Meanness disdaining. 
Still entertaining. 

Engaging and new. 
Neat, but not finical; 
Sage, but not cynical; 
Never tyrannical. 

But ever true. 

Henry Carey [ ? -il*3l 


O WHAJ a. plague is Jov^! 

How shall I bear it? 
She will inconstant prove, 

I greatly fear it. 
She so tonnents my mind 

That my strength failetfa, . 
And wavers with tbe wind 

As a ship saileth. 


" PhilUda Floatfi ' Me " ..723 

Phase her the best I may, 
Shelovies still to gainuy; ' 
' ■ Alack and well-a-dayl 
Phillads floata me. 

Atthefairye3t«rdajr 1 '. 

She did pB63 by mc; 
She- looked another way 

And vwM not Spy mei 
I ndotd her for tO'dJne, 

But could not get her; 
Will had her to the wine — 

He mjj^ enbrwt her. ■ 
With Daniel she did danoe, 
On me she looked aakancei 

thrice unhaiq^ chancel 
Fhillada flooU me. 

Fair maid, be not eo coy, 
Do not disdain mel 

1 am my mother's joy: 
Sweet, entertain mel 

She'll give me, when she dies, 

And yet, for all this guedes, 
Fhillada flouU mel 

She hath a clout of mine 

Wrought with blue Coventry, 
Which she keeps for a sign 

But i' faith, if she flinch 

She shall not vear it; 
To Tib, my t'other wench, 

I mean to bear it. 


, 7?4 - ' Poeans; of, Lovfe 

And yet it (^eves my bcatt 
So soon from her to pact: 
Death'strike me with his dart! ! 
Fhilladai flouts me. 

Thou shalt leat cnidded cr^ftm 

All the. year lasting, 
And drink the crystal stieom 

Pleasant in tastings 
Whig and nitey whilst thou lust, 

And bramble-berries. 
Pie-lid and pastry-crust, 

Pears, (dums, and cherries. 
Thy raiment shall be thin, 
Made of a weevii's skin — 
Yet all's not worth a pin I 

Phillada flouts me. 

In the iast month of May 

I made her posies; 
I heard her often say 

That she loved roses. 
Co^vaGps and gillyflowers 

And the white lily 
I brought io deck the bowers 

For my sweet Philly. 
But she did all disdain, 
And threw them back again; 
Therefore 'lia flat and plain 

Phillada flouts me. 

Fair maiden, have a care. 

And iu time take me; 
I can have those as fiiir 

If you forsake me: 
For Doll the dairy-maid 

Laughed at me lately, 
And wanton Winifred 

Favors me greatly. 


Cdntcndonfi 7^5 

' Otte tiamn atik anray clothes, 
T'other fA^ja wiih my dogc; 
AMuit wanting w^a ore tboae? 
Phillada .flouts me. 

J cannot work nor sleep 
, At all in season: 
Love Tvounds ray heart so deep 

Without all reason 
I 'gin to pine away 

Id my love's shadow, , . ■ , 

Like as a fat beast may, 

Penned in a meadow, , 

I shall bt dead, I fear, 
Within this thousand year: 
And all for that my dear 

PhiUada flouts me. 


When Molly smiles beneath her cow, ' .' 
( (ccl my heart— I can't tell how; 
When Molly is on Sunday dressed, 
On Sundays 1 can take no rest. , 

What can I do? On worky days 
I leave my work on her to gaze. 
What shaU I say? At sermons, I 
Forget the text when Molly's by. 

Good master curate, teach rae how , , 
To mind your preaching and my plow: 
And if for this you'll raise a spcU, , 
A good fat goos^ ^all thank you welt. 

Ir was a lenlling's danghtec, the fuiest one of tj»ee, 
That likad of her naster as well as well inight ife; 
Till looking on an EngUshnwD, the fair'sL that eya could see 
Hoc fancy, fell a-tuming. <. 


Ji6 Pocras of Ldve 

Long was the combat doubtful Uut km with love did fight, 
To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight: 
To put in practice either, alas! il v/as-a, fpite 

Unto the silly damsel. 

But one must be refused: more mickle was tht pain. 
That nothing could be used to turn them both to gain; 
For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain: 
Alas! she could not help it. 

Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day, 

Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away; 

Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay; 

For now my song is ended. 




I ASKED my fair, one happy day, 

What I should call her in my lay; \ 

By what sweet name from Rome or ,Greece; 
Lalage, Neiera, C Moris. 
Sappho, Lesbia, or Dorb, 

Arethusa or Lucrece. 

"Ah!" replied my gentle fair, - 
"Beloved, what are nanus butaii? 

Choose thou whatever suits the line; 
Call me Sapphb| caW the Chloris, ■ ' 

Call me Lalage or Ooris, 

Only— only call me thine." 

Samua Taylar ColefHi* {1771-1834! 


We i^edged onr hearts; my torc and I,--* . . 
T in my 2L.Trtt& the nsai^en dating': 

'"' I could not telt the rsaaon wby,' 

But ohi I trailed like sat »apnL 


"Green Grow' the Rashes, O! " 727 

Hei- father's love she bade me gain; 

I Went, and shook like any reedi ' 
I strove to act the man — in vain! 

We had exchanged our hearts indeed. 

Samuel Taylcr Coleridge [mi-iiiH 


CoKDj' through the rye, poor body,- 

Comin' through the rye, 
She draiglet a' her pettkoade, 1 

G(»nia' thiou^ the rye. / 

Oh Jenny'a a' wat pow body,, 
■ Jenny's seldom dry; 
She draiglet a' her pettieoatw, 
Comin' through the rye., 

Gin a. a body, 

Comin' through the rye, 
Gin a body kiss a body. 

Need a body cry? 

Gin a body meet a body 
Comin' through the glen, 

Green gnw the rashes, O! : I 
The sweetest hours that e''er 1 q)eDd, 
' Are spent amang the lasses, O! 

p:hy Google 

yiS Poeans of Love . , j " 

The wail'ly race may riches duee, ' 
An' riches still may fly them, 01 
An' though at Lost tk«y catch then fast, 
Their hearts can ne'er eojoy Lhera* O! 

Gie me a canny hour at e'en; 
My arms about my dearie, O! 
An' warily cares, an* warl'ly inch, 
May a:' gae tapaalteerle, Ot 

For you sac douce, ye sneer at this; ' 
Ye'cr naught but seoseiess assov O! 
The wisest man the wart' e'er saw 
Ue deariy loved the lassos, Of 

Aald Nature swears the lovely dears 
Her noblest work she classes, 0! 
Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, 
An' then she made the lasses, O!'' ' 

Robert Burns iiisv-'796] 


Catch her and holdherif yeucBi)-^, i 

See, she defies ynu with her iaa; ,■. 

Shuts, opens, aad then holds it spread 

In threat eniog, guise above your head. 

Ah! why did you not start hetore 

she reached the porch andcldsed the door? 

Simpleionl will you never learn 

That girls and time will noL letu^n^ 

0( each yc^ should have made tha nro^t; 

Once gonC) they are loiever loat. ' 

In vain your knuckles knock your brow, 

In vain will you lememher how 

Like a shm brook the gsmcsomd maid 

^pJuUed, abd- ran into the shade.